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The following Pokémon fanfic series you are about to read IS IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM MEANT FOR ALL AUDIENCES TO ENJOY. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or distressed reading this, please, I recommend you stop reading. Furthermore, if you are diagnosed with mental conditions like PTSD or have been through IRL events that may trigger flashbacks or distress from an event that happens in this fanfic, I suggest you proceed with utmost caution. Remember, the "Ctrl+W" shortcut, the back button on your browser, and the search bar are your partners in crime if you ever need them. Keep in mind this series is meant for ages 18 and up ONLY. If you want to see updates and stuff on my work, check out my Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/nickythethievul.bsky.social Happy Reading!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

REVENGE.
  What exactly is REVENGE? Is it…  
Unleashing all your anger on someone who’s betrayed or wronged you? Getting back at someone so they know exactly how you felt? Doing harm against someone who’s done harm to you? How about turning the tables on your enemies and watching them suffer before your feet?
  What words can be used to truly define REVENGE? Is it…  
Vengeance? Turning the tables? Karma? Overthrowing the enemy? Getting the last laugh? Showing who’s the boss of them? Comeuppance? Giving them hell? Retribution? 
  What does it feel like to take REVENGE on someone who deserves it the most? Is it…  
Angering? Thrilling? Satisfying? Soothing? Just? Heartbreaking? Wild? Surreal? Stress-relieving? Chilling? Hateful?
  It’s no surprise that everybody has their own definition of REVENGE; REVENGE can take on any size, reason, form, you name it. Maybe it can be as small and simple as defending yourself and letting everyone know you’re no pussy. Or maybe it can be as big and destructive as completely screwing over someone’s livelihood because they’ve done nothing but harm you for years on end, or perhaps far beyond.  
But just be warned…
  The REVENGE you’re about to read…  
IS NOWHERE NEAR SMALL.

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Friday, January 3rd, 2020, 10:00 PM
 
SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK…
 
This is where our shitshow of a snowballing quest for vigilante-like revenge truly starts.
 
Someplace in a basement, in a nice yet normal-looking home, just on the outskirts of an ordinary town, in the oh-so-elegant Empire State that is New York, in the freedom-passionate country that is the USA.
 
Some person, for some reason or another, has an evil plan in their horrid mind, ready to set that plan into motion a few days from now.
 
An evil plan to bring terror whenever there’s a full moon.
 
He isn’t a werewolf.
 
He doesn’t strike his victims only during a full moon.
 
He strikes them with something they can never expect in their wildest dreams, at any time he chooses, day or night, rain or shine.
 
And when he strikes his victims, he vanishes without a trace.
  How does he exactly strike his victims? He does that by [CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION; BACK THE HELL OFF SNOOP]   And his victims experience the real terror when there’s a full moon. That’s right; his victims [TOP SECRET INFORMATION; FORBIDDEN TO BE READ]   Who exactly is he? Why does he want to do this? Nobody truly knows, not even me. But as the author of this story, I can say that he [THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN EXPUNGED FOR YOUR SAFETY; THE FBI WILL COME FOR YOU OTHERWISE]  
Even when he falls, more will fill his position and continue his dastardly deeds.
 
But one of his victims will not be like the others, little does he know.
 
“How come? What makes one of his victims ‘not like the others?’ What makes this victim stand out?” You might ask.
 
Just wait and see for yourself…

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saturday, March 21st, 2020, 9:50 AM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

I woke up on a nice sunny day feeling refreshed, the light of a new day reaching my open eyes. The weekend is here, and I have freedom on what I want to do since I (obviously) have no school today, meaning I could either play Roblox all day, take a walk outside, watch YouTube videos, whatever I could think of; all kinds of stuff. Spring was just and I mean just getting started; like spring just started yesterday type of just. The depressive, dreadful dead of winter has finally passed and now has been put into the rearview mirror.

You know what that means right?

The flowers will start to bloom after three months of freezing cold winter.

The trees will start to leave hibernation and regrow their leaves.

The bees will start to do their job of pollinating plants.

The winter snow will finally melt (but this year we didn’t have any snow for some odd reason; we only got rain), which means you can now see the beautiful green grass instead of dead white snow.

The climate will start to get warmer; which will be more likely to encourage you to get outside and obtain some fresh oxygen.

The days will start to become longer every day until the summer solstice.

Those annoying bugs will start to bug you again. How? By buzzing belligerently into your ear constantly.

The weather/climate will start to be suitable for swimming!!! (Well, soon)

Summer is only three months away.

You won’t need to wear your robust jacket/coat as often if not anymore.

Winter clothes start going into the attic.

It will start to rain more often until summer rolls around.

Allergies. Damn allergies. (Curse you pollen!)

Air conditioning season starts soon.

Easter. Of course. (Or is it called Wester? I’m sorry)

Only a few more months until school ends. (Shocker)

Oh, before we get started, My name is Jimmy, I have red hair that’s medium-short in length and bluish-green eyes. I’m currently 16 years of age, and my birthday is in July. I live on the pre-outskirts of a town named Pleasantdale, and I live in the surrounding neighborhood so close in fact I can get to town in at least a minute just by walking. Did I also mention that I was five foot ten? I’m not the tallest of teens, I know. My interests are Pokémon and automotive stuff, not to mention.

Back to what I want to do today.

Wait a minute...

Turns out I have no clue what I want to do today.

No clue.

None.

What to do? What to do…

It was like 9:50 in the morning, so I decided that it would be recommended that I have breakfast. I got out of bed, and went to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast when I saw my mom making me some pancakes. I couldn’t resist smiling at the fact that my mom was doing something to make my day start off well. Who on this planet doesn’t love pancakes?! Why would someone not resist the tasty, fluffy flat breakfast delight in the morning? I guess everybody has their reasons for not liking something.

“Good morning mom.” I greeted my mom.

“Good morning.” Mom said.

“Thank you for making me pancakes,” I said with a smile on my face.

“You’re welcome.” Mom replied, smiling back.

Once she was done making me the pancakes, I put syrup on them and ate.

Wow, they taste great!

Thanks to mom!

I thought to myself that since she has made me something special, I figured today would be an amazing day, despite me having little to no idea on what I should do today. Once I was finished, I put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and went to my room to ponder on what I should do today.

After some time of pondering, I decided to play Roblox for a while until it gets a little warmer today. Spring has just begun, after all; it’s not like the trees will regrow their leaves or the climate will become warmer overnight.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

12:30 PM.

It’s now 12:30 PM, and I’m still playing Roblox, currently unaware of the time. However, while I was playing, something in me for some odd reason just said “I’ve had enough; I’m not playing anymore” and I suddenly lost the will to keep playing. Besides, it was thirty past twelve.

Time to treat my lungs with some fresh air.

I exited out of my Roblox client and went out of my room to tell mom that I was going to go for a walk outside in town, just to get some fresh air and enjoy this beautiful day. She told me it was ok with her and to be careful. Not a worry, as I got my shoes on and headed out the door. The moment I opened my front door, a gentle, warm breeze greeted me. Today wasn’t a cold day at all; it felt great.

Today’s the perfect day for a walk!

I headed into town and was surprised that few people were out on this beautiful day. I felt the sun’s warm rays upon me, gently hugging me like the warm hug from a loved one. I couldn’t wait for the trees to fully grow their leaves, as I’m absolutely tired of seeing leafless trees; it makes the atmosphere of any place very dull and like something out of a horror / suspenseful movie. For three months I had to deal with them, it’s been too long since I last saw the greens of spring and summer. I began wondering about what the summer of 2020 would be like for me, let alone hold for me. Going to a water park? Camping? What could I possibly be doing this upcoming summer? Pfft, who knows; only time will tell.

I miss summer.

While I was thinking about the upcoming summer, I suddenly felt something hit my back hard as if someone punched me, instantly followed by a shooting pain, which made me let out a loud and swift gasp of pain. My first reaction was briskly turning around to see who had the absolute nerve to assault a minor, but no one was there nor a soul was running away. Confusion hit me, trying to figure out how someone could just disappear in a heartbeat. I felt something sticking out from my back, so I hesitantly felt my back, my right hand coming across something long with a soft top on it. I pulled it out, causing more pain and making me yelp loudly. I looked to see what the object I just pulled out was.

Wait a minute…

Is...

Is that a…

IS THAT A FUCKING BLOWDART?!

A shockwave of fear hit me like an oncoming bullet train, almost making me pass out as I felt my soul exit my body.

Some idiot just tried to possibly either kill me or make me lose consciousness and then kidnap me.

Only god knows.

What’s even more unfortunate is that my hometown has an extremely low crime rate, as crime never happens here, yet I am unlucky enough to end up in this sticky situation.

What was a day with the best start possible now has been interrupted with me being a victim and in serious danger. I tried to stay calm in this very scary situation by slowly breathing in and out. Anything can happen without warning and could spiral out of control. I dialed 911 and told them everything that had happened. Then I called my mom and told her everything that had happened and where I was in town. When she heard this, she was obviously very upset by this.

Around a few minutes later, a few police cars and an ambulance arrived at my location, followed by my mom arriving a few seconds later, worried and scared. She rushed towards me and hugged me tightly whilst crying her eyes out wondering profusely if I was ok or not. I gave one of the police officers the blow dart I pulled out of my back so they can investigate it. The paramedics put me on a stretcher, put me in the ambulance, and rushed me to the hospital. What the hell did I do to deserve this happening to me?

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

12:49 PM
Orangeville Hospital, five and a half minutes away from Pleasantdale.

Once we arrived at the hospital, the paramedics pulled the stretcher out from the ambulance, and pushed the stretcher to one of the hospital rooms. Then a few moments later they started doing tests on me to make sure I was not in harm’s way. They located the injection site, rubbed a cotton swab on the injection site, and later drew some blood so they could test to see if I was in any danger of dying or anything. My mom was holding my hand the entire time. I already know through her tear-filled eyes that she most likely wanted to track down the person who blow-darted me and beat the ever-living daylight out of them. I was pretty furious inside, too; I also wanted to find whoever blow-darted me and sock them straight in their gut, but I knew better than to mess with someone I don’t know. It then left me thinking…

Who on the face of this Earth could be so doltish and commit such an awful crime? What goes on in their minds whilst they are committing a crime in the first place? What emotions do they feel?

I don’t fucking understand.

This whole situation made me feel as if time was slowly slowing down. Seconds started to feel like hours. Minutes began feeling like millennia. My entire mind was blank and filled with nothing but anxiety and fear; not a single thought or feeling roaming the barren, cranial wasteland. The only noise that drowned out the silence was the constant, steady beeps of the heart rate monitor beside the bed and the faint sound of hospital workers doing their job. My mom desperately waited for the results to come in. She was worried sick about my safety and well-being, praying that the results weren’t anything serious if not deadly or fatal. I was hoping that the whole blow-darting incident was just some kind of twisted prank that was pulled just to incite panic.

“How could someone be so doltish and do such a thing like this?” I asked my mom.

“There are sick, twisted, angry, and messed up people out there...” Mom replied, sniffling and wiping the teardrops from her eyes.

Pretty soon the constant beeping of the heart rate monitor seemingly began drowning out every other sound, but I knew it was just me. My brain was beginning to only focus on that sound and that sound only.

After what felt like forever, the doctors came in to tell us about the results. My mom prayed it wasn’t anything serious. I was nervous as hell, sweating bullets. If I had a tail, it would be furiously tapping my hospital bed right now.

Oh, how lucky I should be right now; the doctors said that there was nothing life-threatening detected. My mom and I both let out a deep sigh of relief. A massive weight has finally been removed from our shoulders.

“Mom, I’m so sorry about what happened. I should’ve never gone outside.” I told mom quietly.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault that this happened.” Mom said as she continued to hold my hand, her eyes still faintly glistening with tears.

The doctors then told us that if I ever felt anything out of the norm to call them. We were then discharged from the hospital about five minutes later. We got in the car, and headed back home.

A few moments later…

Once we arrived at home after a grueling three hours at the hospital, we went inside and decided to not go out anywhere for a few days because of what happened. My mom tightly hugged me and was proud of me for my brave actions. The whole blow-darting incident made a great day turn into a frightening and traumatizing nightmare, making me feel exhausted and wanting to just sleep for the entirety of today. There was absolutely no energy left in my body; I felt as if I was going to freaking pass out, and my limbs were becoming limp. I went into my room, put on some comfy clothes, went to bed, curled up in a ball, and took a big fat nap.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

8:31 PM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

I woke up, still deprived of energy and not in the slightest of moods, my eyes too tired to be fully open. It was now dark outside and was softly raining, the cold, damp rain gently tapping the bedroom window. My stomach rumbled in hunger, so I sleepily went to the kitchen to get myself something to eat. As I entered the dimly lit kitchen, I noticed on the kitchen counter, my mom left me a plate that she cooked for dinner. I went to the table, grabbing a fork and a knife on my way there, sat down, and just slowly and blankly ate it. Once I finished up, I put the dirty dish in the dishwasher, and slowly went back to my room to sleep once again. I didn’t have any out-of-the-norm feelings or anything like that since the incident, so I considered that was at least one good thing that happened out of that whole situation. I figured that it was only a prank deliberately planned and executed to traumatize an unsuspecting victim and terrify them for days if not weeks on end, making them wonder hopelessly and endlessly if something bad will happen to them or not. The chances of me finding out who did the dirty deed are slim to nothing. I might never find out who blow-darted me, or they’ll eventually show their face. They have to someday…

Right?

Ugh, what’s the point of trying to figure out who did it?

It’s too much trouble to deal with. Besides, I already have too much shit on my plate with schoolwork and other life-related things.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Saturday, March 28th, 2020, 7:50 PM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

Over a week has sluggishly crawled by since the blow-darting incident occurred, and my mom and I have finally moved on from the whole ordeal. Thankfully, I didn’t feel anything out-of-the-norm so far, which is quite surprising to me, but that’s a good thing; I consider myself extremely lucky that nothing bad happened to me so far.

The time that showed on the kitchen clock was 7:50 PM, and today my mom is getting ready to go out to a Queensrÿche concert tonight with a few of her friends. She told me to be careful (to be expected because of what recently happened) and to call my grandma if I need anything or if anything happens since she won’t be home until two in the morning, not to mention she won’t be able to hear her phone’s ringer over the blaring concert speakers. She also told me to be ready for bed at ten-thirty and to stay up no later than eleven o’clock. After she was done getting ready, she hugged and kissed me goodbye, and headed out the door, starting up her car and leaving the driveway.

Now I’m all alone, by myself. The household inhabited nobody else; no siblings, no other parents or guardians, no pets, nobody nor nothing. Just a teenager left to his own devices for the night until dawn arrives.

What should I do to entertain myself?

I play too much Roblox.

Heck, too much videogames, even.

It was at that moment I decided to myself, I needed to do something more productive instead of staring at a flashing screen twenty-four-seven as every other teenager would. Look, I’m not a waste-of-space person; I have a whole future ahead of me.

Let’s do something productive tonight.

How about talking to a friend, asking them how life has been going?

What about learning how to draw for once? That’s something I’ve been trying to do but had no confidence in.

Maybe grab some weights and exercise, or get on the exercise bike in the living room and pedal to the metal until I can’t anymore?

Speaking of exercise, I need to fill out my log for PE since it was due last Friday. I haven’t been able to get to it because I had a big project to do for science, and it got in the way of doing productive things. Thankfully that’s out of the way, so I’ll try and fill out the final week by going on the bike. I am required to do at least one hour and thirty minutes of exercise every week, and I have three weeks per log, but this week I was busy like I said before. I do have thirty minutes of walking logged in, so an hour is left.

Enough chit-chat, let’s get down to business. After that, I’ll hang with my friends online as a reward.

Let’s do this.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

10:45 PM.

After what felt like forever, I managed to push through an intense hour of biking, with five-minute breaks sprinkled here and there. After that, I talked with my friends online for the rest of my time before bed, having a blast. But now I have to start getting ready to hit the bricks, and I do this by brushing my teeth, getting my bedtime clothes on, and plugging in my phone to refill on battery juice.

When the time came, my hand then met with the light switch on the wall, shutting off the cozy bedroom light, making my room become nearly pitch black. Before my body got onto my comfy bed so I could close my eyes to sleep the night away, some part of me wanted to open the blinds for some bizarre reason. It was unclear why that was, but I just wanted to. Maybe to let the morning light in when morning comes? Who fucking knows at this point; my memory and reasoning are crumbling from the pressure of piles of schoolwork being carelessly dished out at me.

So I opened them, not thinking too much about it.

I opened my blinds, and the moment I opened them, a beautiful full moon came upon my eyes, and the light from the moon made my room become slightly less dim. I was mesmerized by how bright and beautiful the moon was. Hypnotized me just sat there on my bedroom floor, mindlessly staring at the moon like a deer in headlights. A sudden, mysterious feeling quickly hit my body moments later, which felt kinda strange if you ask me.

“The hell was that?” I softly said to myself, confused as to what I felt.

And then…

An unexpected yet excruciating pain erupts in my hands, causing me to loudly yawp in pain, and I held my hands while wincing from the pain, tearing up in the process. What I felt could be described as a combination of a thousand sewing needles slowly puncturing my skin and digging their way into my flesh, and my skin slowly being torn apart. I looked at my hands to see why my skin was being relentlessly tortured, and saw something black and furry pushing through every pore on my skin. I swear I felt my heart stop dead.

“What the hell?!” I yelped in fear, my body becoming cold and sweaty.

It was starting to become next to impossible to not scream my lungs out as the palms of my hands and the pads of my digits began tumefying, becoming uncomfortably swollen and puffy, not to mention blackening as well. My nails sharpened, became longer, and changed structural integrity, becoming a natural arc-shape and thinning out to a vicious, skin-shredding end. My eyes promptly widened in fear, fearing I might itch an itch, only to become heavily bloodied and injured as a result. Shortly after, they then slowly became sheathed into my fingertips, hence they are now a retractable, razor-sharp set of claws.

And then…

Pain.

More. Fucking. Pain.

What came out of my mouth was a combination of an ear-splitting scream and a screech of pain. I couldn’t help but flail my hands around like a maniac set ablaze, hoping it would stop. What I began hearing next was horrifying cracking and popping as bones in my hands literally cracked, exploded, relocated, and fused.

“MAKE IT STOP!!!” I again screamed, continuing to flail my hands.

My digits became shorter and stubbier, slowly losing any human detail, along with the dexterity in my hands beginning to seize up and become stiff. Vien structures changed, and muscles tore and reshaped. My once opposable thumbs, now dwarfed in size, migrated up to my wrists to become dewclaws, losing any use left within them. I looked at my hands, and was met with two paws as black as the night sky. Suddenly, I realized what was soon happening to my body.

“Oh god… I’M BECOMING A WEREWOLF!!!!” I screamed in fear, petrified at the possibility of me becoming a mindless, uncontrollable human-eating monster powered by some silvery-white object in the sky.

Another sudden burst of pain flared at my tailbone, swiftly followed by me covering that area with my paws and writhing in agony. What proceeded next was an intense yet abrupt pulling sensation as movement suddenly began happening at my tailbone. I knew full well what was going on down there, so I rushed to get my pants off before it had a chance to try and push through my pajama pants.

Attempting to get my pants off was easier said than done; I struggled to get them off but I achieved what I was trying to do. My underwear, however? Yeah, I just said “fuck this shit” and gave up since it was impossible to do with how mangled of a mess my hands are now. The newly forming appendage soon enough started pushing against the butt of my underwear. Thank goodness it’s now only pushing against an elastic garment instead of some snuggly fitting denim jeans for example, or else my children would’ve been crushed to a pancake. I felt new nerves and tendons in my tail starting up for the first time. Next thing you know, the affliction caused by my growing tail grew so painful that it was more than impossible to not cry my eyes out, and I began sobbing in harrowing pain, the pain stinging my nerve endings, while I was still clutching my extending tailbone with my dangerous paws. Hours seemingly came and went as my tail slowly yet steadily grew inch, by bitchingly painful, inch.

Eventually, I felt it wiggle its way out from my underwear, and moments later I saw something black move out of the corner of my eye. I threw my head around to see what that was, and my eyes came across a floofy, black tail with a yellow stripe in the middle of it.

A tail?!

I now have a tail?!

Pretty soon the pain dwindled, except for the gruesome pain on my arms as more and more black fur spread up my arms like wildfire, with me still softly sobbing from the burning pain. Out of fear I felt my tail with my paws. My tail looked a little more on the vulpine side than canine, which confused me a little. Am I supposed to be a werewolf or some werefox? I then decided to see if I could use my new tail, and to my surprise, it was pretty easy to do as it moved under my muscular command. And then, the yellow stripe on my tail began to…

GLOW?!

“Why and how is it glowing?” I sniffled softly.

Out of nowhere, like a swift, unpredicted blow to my gut, my internals began to feel as if they were being thrown into a blender and set to the smoothie setting. I screamed my lungs out as I could no longer endure the extreme torment I underwent, crying uncontrollably and rolling around on the floor, surrendering to this torture as my throat began to feel sore. A sudden urge to gag until I puked hit me, and I began having a serious retching fit as the organs within me began to twist and turn, expand and contract, relocate and shift about, slowly altering my internal organ setup.

The skin-shredding sensation of black fur growing continued to slowly venture up my arms and onto my shoulders. A yellow ring formed on both of my shoulders and also started to glow, just like the yellow stripe on my tail. My tail was thumping against the floor at hyperspeed as the changes progressed. Soft, black fur was now starting to engulf my entire upper body, making my temperature alarmingly rise to sweat-inducing temperatures within seconds the more fur grew across my body.

Just under a minute later, my organs stopped shifting around, and the pain slowly slipped away from my body. My head felt lighter than a feather and I was beginning to overheat from how much fur was now on my body, trying my damn hardest to catch my breath and process every event that fell into place. The black fur that covered me made my shirt feel itchy as hell, not to mention very uncomfortable. As I attempted to take off my shirt, the fur made its way down towards my feet and slowly covering my crotch, making my crotch begin to feel as if it was set ablaze, black fur rapidly sprouting out of every pore available on the skin. More scream-crying ensued, but that was short-lived as the burning stopped as soon as it started.

Without warning, my entire body began to feel as if it was being forcefully squeezed into an ever-shrinking box, my surroundings seemingly yet menacingly growing in size. Black fur kept on spreading, traveling down my legs, and soon reaching my feet. A yellow ring formed on both sides of my hip and started glowing, like the ones on my shoulders. I braced myself for another incoming shot of pain as black fur rapidly grew out of my feet, followed by the bottom of my feet and the pads of my toes swelling up, the skin fading to black. My toenails sharpened and eventually gained the ability to become retractable. The bones in my feet began popping, cracking, reshaping, and relocating, starting another wave of nerve-stabbing afflictions.

“SOMEONE PLEASE SEND HELP!!!” I screamed to the top of my lungs, hoping someone would hear my cries for help.

From that point on, my throat felt so sore from screaming that my throat was beginning to howl in pain. I thought I would soon lose my voice if I kept putting colossal amounts of stress on my vocal cords. My heart was racing so fucking fast that I was afraid that I was starting to suffer from ventricular fibrillation as blood bolted through my veins. I did nothing but squirm about on the carpeted floor of my room like someone having a seizure, hyperventilating and crying to the sinister rhythm of the changes that my body underwent.

“*pant* M-mom… S--s-some… one… anyo--... one… p-ple… *pant* ease… *gasp* H---YEL--P M---E!!!” I whimpered as I tried to scream again, not knowing my mom was still away, but the pain in my throat prevented me from letting out another hopeless yet unanswered cry for help.

It’s no use…

Why do I keep screaming for help when its obvious no one will be able to help me...?

Why do I think help is available when I know full well what’s happening to me...?

Why am I so blind to see that anything bad can happen no matter how small an incident may seem...?

Why is it that I can be so naive and taken advantage of so damn easily...?

Why am I so stupid and dumb for thinking that life won’t get any worse if not painful...?

Why...?

Well, might as well just pass out or better yet pass away from neurogenic shock, or hope that I do since I’m not able to withstand this much pain. I mean, seriously; my entire body is reconstructing and deconstructing itself into something completely different and alien in such a short timeframe. Muscles and flesh are tearing apart and reshaping. My anatomy is being distorted and altered beyond recognition. Bones were cracking apart and exploding, changing shape and shifting about. The energy was being sucked from me alive just to fuel this unholy transformation.

I continued to do nothing but surrender to the god-awful pain, growing too tired to scream nor cry. My body was growing weaker, since not only was the pain zapping every bit of energy in my body, but my brain was now starting to focus more on trying to resist pain rather than let me move freely, tears trickling down my face and my cheeks. The pain I felt was now exceeding the point where it felt as if I was not only being relentlessly tortured, but also slammed in the cremator and being slowly incinerated alive at the same time.

My ears soon began to change, and my head began to pound as I began to have possibly the worst headache I ever had, and I clutched my head with my paws in agony. My ears were beginning to slowly sharpen and become longer. Soft, black fur began to softly cover my ears along with a yellow stripe forming in the middle of them, and my ears began to slowly migrate up towards the tippy top of my head, with everything slowly becoming eerily silent. I started to realize that I was now deaf, and I threw my paws towards the top of my head, a second later feeling my newly forming ears.

Meanwhile, my heels started to migrate up my now furry legs, soon meeting and fusing with my knees and shins, forming into a set of canine-like hocks and making my feet much longer than humanly normal, not to mention my knees disappearing. The fibers within the flesh of my thighs folded on top of each other as my thighs bulged and thickened with muscles. Bones in my legs cracked and reshaped, becoming the skeletal structure of a werewolf’s rear haunches.

It didn’t take long for my hearing to return, but this time I could hear things a million times better, followed by my ears now starting to finish up their short-lived transformation. The yellow stripe in the middle of my ears began to glow, just like every other yellow spot on my body.

Black, fluffy fur began to spread up my neck, slowly yet harshly covering my face, my face now feeling a little warmer than normal. My nose became smaller and blackened, becoming cold and wet a second later as my sense of smell increased to unimaginable levels. Black whiskers harshly pushed their way through my upper lip, only fanning the flames of torment even more. My decreasing body size soon met an abrupt halt, and my clothes were now way too big for me as I was now the size of a red fox. A yellow ring formed on my forehead and began glowing a second later. An unpleasant burning feeling occurred in my eyes, which made me cover my eyes in pain.

“FUCK MY LIFE WITH A FUCKING CROWBAR!!!” I screamed the instant I had enough regained energy to speak again, but that only caused the pain in my throat to flare up even more.

Just…

Just let me pass out!

I WISH TO NO LONGER FEEL ANY MORE PAIN!!!

PLEASE!

I BEG WITH ALL OF MY GOD DAMN HEART!!!!!

In the meantime, my eyes color-shifted from bluish-green into the color of freshly drawn blood, while my pupils became longer and narrower into feline-like slits, and my eyes also started to glow a menacing red glow, my night vision abilities becoming superior to that of a human’s.

A violent shockwave of pain rudely greeted me as I started to have the worst toothache I have ever experienced. I could not help but scream my lungs out again, still bawling my eyes out to the point where I was becoming dehydrated, hoping for the agonizing transformation from human to werewolf to end, but all I got in return was being subjected to more and more unendurable torment. My teeth slowly sharpened, becoming more suitable for ripping into flesh and eating meat with ease, my canines becoming longer into ferocious fangs while the rest of my teeth became more carnivorous. I felt my teeth with my tongue, and my soul left my body as my eyes became wide in trepidation, as I feared that I would accidentally bite my tongue off while munching away on food. Before I knew it, my tongue became flatter, longer, and more floppy, which would make forming words an impossible task to pull off.

Some amount of time later, I felt a sudden buildup of pressure on my face and nose begin to happen.

“Oh mo mo MO!!! PWEATH MO!!!” I cried, struggling to form words correctly, knowing what was about to unfold, bracing myself.

Literally, a few moments later, the growing pressure soon turned unendurable and was then translated by my nerves as extreme, unfiltered pain.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! OH GOOOOOD!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa…” I screamed my lungs out, letting out the loudest and most ear-shattering screams I have ever let out in the entirety of my life, just moments before my voice abruptly faded away into oblivion.

I had no other choice but to resist the hellish levels of agony and pressure, silently screaming my lungs out while hopelessly watching my face ferociously stretch forwards in horror, my skull feeling as if it was slowly being cracked open with a metal crowbar. Nothing, not even words, feelings, human imaginations, or even the most fucking extreme of words or most gruesome of descriptions can match how traumatizing the pain and pressure I felt was; not even saying that I was violently flailing around on my bedroom floor like a fish out of water was enough. The more my face pushed forwards with all its might, the more my sinuses burned alive. My head was now so fucking light that it felt as if it consisted of substances that had a negative mass. The pain was even ungodly enough that it seemingly blocked out every other external stimulus.

Abruptly, the position of my spine starts to change at a painfully slow rate. Being biped and standing on two feet (or pitch black paws, rather) was soon going to become next to impossible to pull off. My spine excruciatingly cracked and popped from a normal, human biped position into the quadruped position of a werewolf, one damn vertebra at a time. This happening made it really hard to move around.

Out of nowhere, my voice box began to come back to life again, but this time it sounded WAY different than my normal, human voice; the pitches and vocals sounded vastly alien to me. At the same time, my short red human hair began to slowly disintegrate and dissolve into the black fur that covered my head.

“UMBRE!!! UMBREOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!! (PLEASE!!! MAKE IT EEEEEEEEND!!!!!!!!)” I again screamed, my throat on the brink of bleeding.

While that was happening, my arms moved towards the front of me, the disappearing of my shoulders following suit. My elbows then moved closer to my shoulders, my humeri becoming somewhat shorter. Last but not least, my chest arches forward slowly, a small hump materializing between my two arms (or front legs rather).

After what felt like an eternity of agonizing pain and suffering coming and going, the growing muzzle and the altering spine position began to finish up, coming to a stop. All the power-zapping pressure and inflictions soon began slowly vanishing from my body.

The transformation was now complete.

I was now a werewolf.

I laid there on the floor, pain receptors screaming to their best ability to my brain as my limbs trembled uncontrollably. Muffled whimpering, whining, and crying were the only sounds that escaped my muzzle except for the occasional gasp for air, with my brain struggling to make sense of this alien body and boosted senses, not to mention what the actual fuck just happened. The fur on my face was soaked and noticeably wet from all that relentless crying. First new thing I noticed is that my room looked a lot less dark, hence I now have night vision.

What felt like forever passing by, but was only thirty minutes, the trembling ceased and some of the burning pain that lingered diminished somewhat. I looked around, taking in my now gigantic surroundings, while still processing what kind of torture I underwent. My throat was feeling unbearable and my heart was still beating fast like an aggressive drumroll, except much less severe than during the transformation.

Then along came a realization: I had to get used to this new body.

Walking was the main issue I had to figure out. Walking in a normal, biped fashion let alone standing on two paws was now impossible due to how my spine was positioned. Basically speaking, I had to learn how to walk all over again, except this time on all fours.

A moment or two passes, and I proceed to get up onto all fours, softly groaning in pain. The first steps whilst in my new form took place not long after. I let out a deep sigh, the realization of how hard this was going to be striking me. This whole thing now felt the equivalent to fucking rocket science. Not having another pet in the house (like a dog) as an example of how to walk the animal way was a pain in my rump. My body still being pain-happy did not help either. Despite my lack of self-confidence and constantly faceplanting onto the gray, carpeted floor, I kept on trying, still determined.

Not even five minutes later, I noticed that walking on all fours was becoming easier and making a lot more sense.

But without warning, something in me reminded me of the blow-darting incident. Suddenly, my brain then started making a lot of connections. Those connections soon enough became realizations.

Did the person who blow-darted me wanted me to become a werewolf just for their enjoyment?!

Why the hell would they do that to someone else that they have no idea of who they were?!

IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE SOME SICK JOKE?!

Anger began to boil within me, my eyes and spots glowing brighter out of sheer, internal rage. Me saying that there was no way in hell that I would become someone’s plaything or (possible) test subject was a massive understatement. I don’t want to be a werewolf, constantly being seen as a threat to others; I’m a nice and caring kid, passionate about other people. If you think I’m a monster because I’m now a werewolf with glowing yellow spots, take a good quick moment and think about the blow-darter and their hideous actions. NOW who do you think is the real monster?

Stupid werewolf me keeps forgetting; there’s no way I’ll be able to track them down and take my revenge. Besides, I know better than to mess with someone I don’t know, as only God knows what could end up happening. Plus I don’t feel like ruining my only chance at life and rotting away in juvenile detention or prison, all because I had an insatiable desire for revenge.

Ruminating constantly about this was only making me angrier, so I decided to just shove the whole ordeal to the darkest and most cobwebby of places in my brain, and focused more on trying to make sense of this alien body.

Once figured I had made enough sense of my body, I wondered what I looked like. I forgot to mention this, but I have a door mirror mounted on my door. Out of curiosity, I made my way to the door and took a peek in the mirror, my front paws resting on the reflective surface and standing on my haunches.

Wait…

This doesn’t make any sense...

I’m a were-Umbreon now…

“Out of all things, I’m now a Pokémon?” I thought to myself, an unimpressed expression on my furry little face.

I’m a pretty big Pokémon fan don’t get me wrong, but never in a million years had I thought that I would become one.

Forget it. I’m too tired for this and it’s past my bedtime. I sluggishly made my way to bed, and attempted to jump onto my bed, whimpering in pain every time I jumped.

After a few unsuccessful tries, I managed to get up onto my bed. My body was deprived of energy, ready to give out at any second. I curled up into a little ball, closed my eyes, and slowly drifted into a well-deserved slumber around ten minutes later.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Sunday, March 29th, 2020, 9:38 AM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

My eyes opened in a slow crawl, and I felt oddly cold, goosebumps occupying a large majority of my skin. My limbs were put into a stretch, and I was shivering from how cold I felt. There was still a little pain leftover from last night, but it was manageable. After a little while of stretching, I noticed something that startled me a bit.

I’m…

Naked.

I immediately looked at my door to see if it was closed, and thankfully, it was. That would’ve been embarrassing. I couldn’t help but notice that the blinds were closed and that the clothes from what happened last night were gone, most likely put in the laundry. I put on some daytime clothes, exited my room, and looked at the mirror in my bathroom. As expected, I was back to my normal, human self. I looked at where my tail used to be, and obviously, it wasn’t there. For some odd reason, I thought I still had my tail. But I’m guessing that’s what happens when you become a werewolf for the first time; when you revert back to your normal self the next morning, that’s where the weird stuff happens. You think you still have a tail, you become cold due to your fur not existing anymore, your senses become crappier, you probably get it by now.

I then went to my living room after a while of me inspecting my body, and I saw my mom on the couch. She noticed me immediately.

“Oh hi, good morning. May I talk to you for a moment? You’re not in trouble.” Mom said as she greeted me.

“Ok?” I replied, sitting on the couch with her.

“It’s about last night.” Mom said.

I already knew what she was talking about. This should be an interesting discussion.

Last night.

I painfully remembered everything that happened last night.

Mom > “So I came home at like 1:30 in the morning,”

Me > “Yeah,”

Mom > “And I decided to come and check on you to see if you were sleeping, and instead walked into something rather weird and bizarre.”

Me > “Can you provide more information?”

Mom > “You weren’t there. Instead of you sleeping on your bed, I saw some animal with yellow spots sleeping on your bed. It looked like a cross between some sort of dog and a fox.”

Me > “That’s very odd.”

Mom > “I know right? If you weren’t sleeping on your bed and the animal I saw was instead sleeping on your bed, where were you?”

Me > “No no, I was in my room.”

Mom > “Wait, you were?”

Me > “Yes I was.”

Mom > “Ok, wherein your room?”

Me > “Sleeping on my bed.”

Mom > “Wait, what? So you’re saying that the animal sleeping on your bed was… you?”

Me > “Yup, that’s me.”

There was a long pause that ensued the moment I said those three words. I could tell that my mom was trying her damn hardest to process everything that I had confirmed with her. She was trying, and I mean TRYING to understand and make sense of how the animal sleeping on my bed was me. After what felt like an hour had passed by (when only a minute or two had passed), my mom had finally taken in and fully processed what I had said to her.

“Hard to believe, but I guess that explains why there was a pile of your pajamas on your floor and why your blinds were left wide open.” Mom shrugged.

“Wanna know why they were left open?” I asked her.

“Yes.” She responded

Me > “Apparently, I was just about to go to bed when I had the weird idea of me opening my blinds, and when I opened them, I saw a full moon outside my window. I’m guessing you know what happens next.”

Mom > “Let me guess. You become a werewolf, huh?”

“Yeah, basically. I’m glad you weren’t here last night, because holy shit the transformation was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life; there was lots of screaming and crying. I thought I was going to die.” I explained to her, rubbing my shoulder and looking to the side nervously.

“Oh dear… are you ok right now? Do you still feel any pain?” Mom asked, worried about me as every other mom would.

Me > “Only a slight bit, but besides that I’m ok. Plus, during my time being a werewolf, something has led me to believe that the blow-darting incident is somehow connected to this.”

Mom > “Ok I thought we were going to let the whole blow-darting thing go and move on from it, and now you are bri-”

Me > “Mom, please! I’m not trying to use the incident as some sort of scapegoat for what happened last night! I can’t help that-”

Mom > “Jimmy, calm down. I understand why you think or suspect that the incident has caused you to become some werewolf with glowing yellow spots, but, we never truly know what caused the whole werewolf thing last night until we find out.”

Me > “Yes mom, I know. Also, by the way, did the police catch the person who blow-darted me yet?”

Mom > “Not yet, unfortunately.”

Me > “I hope that the police find him and arrest him. He needs to be stopped.”

From that point forward, me and my mom made plans on how to prevent me from becoming a werewolf in the future. I made reminders on my phone to check the weather and moon phases every day. We decided that it would be a no-brainer idea to not go out on nights where there was a full moon. Later tonight we experimented to see if a UV-resistant pocket umbrella would prevent me from transforming, and surprisingly, it worked. After that, I let myself get exposed to the full moon to prove that I really was a werewolf, getting the same exact mysterious feeling that I experienced when I first became a werewolf, and slowly transformed into a were-Umbreon. To my surprise, the transformation this time was a lot less excruciating than last night, but was still pretty painful. As I was expecting, my mom was speechless at what she saw with her eyes. Me being a werewolf meant that my life would become very different.

Very, very different.

Life changingly different.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Friday, April 24th, 2020, 8:31 PM.
Three minutes away from Pleasantdale.

Early into the night, the air was cool and serene, with the occasional zephyr gently passing by, rustling the newly formed leaves on the surrounding trees. The comforting yellow glow from the sodium-vapor lamps above lit up the street ahead, as the concrete below sparkled in the streetlight. I was walking back home from hanging out at a friend’s house, the only sound to be heard besides the silent night was my shoes against the cold, sparkly concrete. Unfortunately, I only have five friends, two of them being close friends I had since kindergarten, which isn’t much. Tonight’s weather was cloudy skies, heavy rain was on the forecast sometime tonight, and the moon phase was a full moon, but I don’t need to worry because it’s very cloudy; cloudy enough to make becoming a werewolf nothing to worry about. Even if the clouds started clearing up on me for some odd reason, my pocket umbrella was ready in my pocket.

Peaceful and undisturbed, I was thinking to myself of how much fun I had at my friend’s house, a visible smile on my face. Out of nowhere, I suddenly felt someone or something tap my left shoulder.

“What the-?” I said as I swiftly turned around.

To my surprise, not a soul was there. What on Earth just tapped my shoulder and managed to disappear into the dark of night in a flash? Something must be going on.

“I must be sensing things,” I mumbled as I shrugged my shoulders and continued walking.

After a little while of walking later, once I came to a streetlight, I then felt someone grab me by my shoulders and forcefully spin me around a full one-eighty. This was then followed by me punching whoever dared to touch a minor like that right square in the stomach, which made him let out a loud OOF sound. His body promptly scrunched up as he covered his stomach in pain, groaning slightly. I never in my life had to physically defend myself, so this was a first for me. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood up, some torn jeans, and black shoes. He then looked at me, and I could tell he was somewhere in his mid-twenties.

“What the fuck is your problem kid?” He hissed at me as he continued to cover his stomach.

“What is my problem?! What the hell is YOUR problem?!” I quickly shot back.

Part of me wanted to run away, but I had no idea how athletic he was or whatever, and god knows what he could do if I tried to make a break for it. Heck, he could have been faking that my punch towards his stomach was super effective and actually hurt.

“Why’d you do that?” He said in a more temperate tone.

“You fucking assaulted a minor. DON’T EVER touch me like that again you asswipe,” I replied sternly.

After a while, he stopped covering his stomach and looked at me dead in the face.

“I have no idea why you thought it was a great idea to touch someone you don’t know like that without their consent. Next time, learn some proper boundaries because what you just did is a great way to get your ass kicked, so slow your damn roll while you still can.” I continued to berate him for his actions.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, kid!” He yelled at me.

For some odd reason, I had this feeling in me that this was the person who blow-darted me over a month ago. Why? I have no idea; probably just a gut feeling.

“Oh, and speaking of consent, don’t go blow-darting people and making them get injected without their knowledge, since putting substances in other peoples’ bodies without them knowing is very illegal.” I finished berating him and proceeded to walk away homeward.

“Speaking of blowdarts, your search for the person who blow-darted you has ended,” He said with a grin on his face.

I continued walking, not thinking of what his answer was going to be.

“I was the person who blow-darted you.” He continued with a smug tone.

The moment I heard him utter those words, I quickly stopped walking, and slowly turned around.

“Excuuuuse youuuuuu...?” I quietly and very slowly said.

“As I said, I was the person who blow-darted you.” He smugly reiterated with no remorse.

My eyes widened as my heart sunk to my feet.

“Yo-you are?!” I replied in shock.

“Yeah I fuckin’ am.” He snickered.

Within a matter of seconds, I went from being shocked, to being so furious I felt as if I could just kill a man.

“Why on planet Earth would you do that?!” I snapped.

“Oh, you know, I needed someone to test it on.” He replied, still maintaining the smug look on his face.

“Really? YOU needed someone to test your most likely illegal blowdart on? That’s the worst excuse you could’ve ever made. Why couldn’t you just test it on one of your friends? Only a cold day in hell will I ever be someone’s test subject without consent.” I stated.

“The problem is that none of my friends wanted to volunteer. They said to test it on an unsuspecting victim instead.” He replied.

My blood boiled, the fire in my eyes becoming clear as day. Words couldn’t describe how much I wanted to punch him in the face, but I knew better than that. Who knows what he could do if I decided to attack him; he could’ve beaten me senseless, he could’ve whipped out a knife and stabbed me, or worse, he could’ve pulled out a gun and shot a bullet into my skull.

“There is CLEARLY something wrong with yo-” I said before I was then cut off by a mysterious yet familiar feeling.

I immediately recognized that feeling, and I froze. I looked up at the night sky, and was greeted by a full moon being uncovered by the clouds. Uh oh.

“For fuck’s sake.” I mumbled sternly.

I could’ve grabbed my pocket umbrella and all would’ve been well, but it was already too late. I already began to transform.

Black fur suddenly began to sprout all over my hands, making them feel awkwardly warm. I felt this happen, and I looked at my hands. I watched in horror as my hands slowly became paws. Black paw pads started to form on the palms of my hands, my nails became longer and sharper into extremely sharp retractable claws, my thumbs began to shrink and move up to my wrists, rendering them useless, and my fingers became shorter and stubbier into the digits of a werewolf. The black fur then started to spread up my arms, a feeling of pins and needles taking over them. He noticed this happening, and the smile on his face went from smug to pure evil.

“Well well well, would you look at that! I call this test subject a success!” He exclaimed with a diabolical giggle.

I was angered by what he said, but before I got angry enough to the point where I wanted to attack him, I felt something happen at my tailbone. Despite me not having a lot of experience being a werewolf, I already knew what was happening down there. It started to grow and elongate into a new appendage, the pain stinging my newly forming nerves and tendons. I started to gain feeling and control in it, and the moment I felt it move, I maneuvered and wiggled my tail to exit towards the top of my pants as it grew, to prevent my pants from, you guessed it, being ruined by my tail ripping through them.

While I was busy moving my tail in certain ways, I felt my tail exit out of the top of my pants, successfully saving my pants from being destroyed. The yellow stripe on my tail began to glow shortly after. I saw his face go from an evil smile to amazement and shock by how I managed to make my pants not get ruined by my tail. I’m guessing he could tell I was trying my damnest to save my pants. While he was looking at me, he let out a very quiet giggle, to which I shook my head slightly in disgust.

The black fur that was spreading up my arms reached my shoulders, followed by a yellow ring forming on each shoulder and emitting a yellow glow. My shirt began to feel unbearably itchy, as my entire upper body was now becoming engulfed in soft, warm fur. Then it started to venture down my legs, and a yellow ring formed on either side of my hips, which started to glow. At the same time, my surroundings seemingly became bigger and bigger, as I was now approaching the size of a red fox. The streetlights started to seem more distant, the blow-darter seemingly grew in size, and the surrounding buildings soon enough became skyscrapers.

Then I felt something happen to my feet. Black fur started to sprout all over my feet, black paw pads starting to form on the bottom of my feet. I already knew what was happening so I quickly took off my shoes and socks (which was pretty hard to do since my hands were now unopposable paws). My toenails became sharper and longer into razor-sharp retractable claws, my big toe moved up my foot, making it become a dewclaw and my toes became shorter and stubbier into the digits of a werewolf’s rear paws.

Suddenly, my pants fell along with my underwear due to how small I was becoming, exposing my privates. I yelped loudly and covered them with my paws, blushing harshly in utter embarrassment. Once he saw this happen, he could no longer contain himself and started hysterically laughing like a hyena. Him making me suffer by making me have to live life as a werewolf and him laughing at me made me painfully remember the time when I was relentlessly bullied at elementary school, and made me believe that he most likely was a bully sometime in his earlier life. I couldn’t fully hold it in, and I started tearing up. An attempt was made to run towards him to most likely either punch or scratch him in the face, but before that even happened, my heels suddenly moved up my legs, making my legs become haunches, and making me fall forwards, making me let out a soft OOF sound as I hit the ground, which then made him start to laugh even harder and more hysterically.

All of these feelings of humiliation soon reached a breaking point…

So I began to softly sob.

As if being humiliated by the person who made my life hell wasn’t painful enough, I suddenly started getting an excruciatingly horrible headache as my ears sharpened and started to move towards the top of my head, getting a soft coat of black fur and making me temporarily become deaf in the process. A yellow stripe also appeared on each ear and started to glow. I clutched my head with my paws and groaned slightly whilst this was happening.

After what felt like forever, my head stopped hurting and I regained the ability to hear again, signaling that my ears were done transforming.

Like some sort of episode of Bipolar Disorder happening within the snap of a finger, my feelings went from sad and embarrassed, to dangerously nuclear levels of fury within a few seconds. This sudden event made me start to see red; a pitch-red fog seemingly materializing out of thin air. The black fur then slowly and softly covered my neck and face, and a yellow ring appeared on my forehead, which started to glow. My nose became cold and damp, and my teeth sharpened, my canines becoming sharp fangs. My eyes changed color from bluish-green to a blood-red color, and my pupils became feline-like slits, perfect for seeing in the dark, and my eyes also started to glow. My hair slowly melted into my fur. A horrible pang erupted as my face started to push forwards into a muzzle, with me groaning in pain because of how painful it was. My shoulders slowly disappeared as my arms slowly moved towards the front of me, followed by my spine slowly yet painfully snapping from a biped position into a quadruped position.

The shrinking soon enough stopped, and the clothes I was wearing no longer fit me. This was also followed by the growing muzzle and spinal position coming to an abrupt halt, all the pain evanescing. I crawled out of my shirt, and I saw him still laughing at me like a hyena. Eventually, he then saw me, and he continued to laugh. This didn’t help the fact that I was now boiling over with rage, and I started to loudly growl at him, my upper lip scrunching up intensively and revealing my killer teeth. The claws on my paws were also beginning to show as I gripped the ground in anger. He heard me growling, and he began to make fun of my anger. GRAVE mistake on his behalf.

“Awwww, are you angy? Are you angy? Looks like somebody’s vewy angy.” He taunted me.

Rage.

Blinded rage.

The murderous brand of rage.

Before you know it, I’m now in an unstable state of uncontrollable anger, seeing nothing but blinding shades of red. With no second thought, I mindlessly attacked him, ripping and tearing his skin to shreds and repeatedly sinking my fangs into his flesh. Within a half of a second, his hyena-like laugher abruptly became memory-scarring screams of agony and screams for help. I wasn’t fazed by this and kept attacking him, scratching his face and his exposed skin as if tomorrow ceased to exist. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pull out a pocket knife, most likely to stab me in his defense. His attempt didn’t last long as I bit his wrist as hard as I could, making him drop the knife and clutch his right wrist with his other hand still screaming. I continued to attack him for what felt like hours, driven by nothing but murderous rage.

About just under a minute later, his screams of pain and for help came to a close, which most likely meant he probably passed out due to neurogenic shock or some other cause. At the same time my will to keep savagely scratching and biting him quickly diminished as I began to run out of energy. I finally stopped attacking him as a result. I growled through every heavy breath I took, my body trembling with anger and from how much energy I used in such a short amount of time. Lastly, I lifted my rear leg and pissed on him with all the remaining anger I had.

My conscience slowly came back to me, the red haze dissipating. The fur on my face and my paws felt drenched in something thick and warm. Not to mention my mouth also had this horrid, metallic iron tang present. I looked at my paws, and to my shock…

Blood.

Seeing this quickly triggered my hemophobia, and I quickly began to feel lightheaded and nauseous, plus I also began to sweat bullets.

“Umbre… Umbreon breon… (Oh shit… I think I might have hurt someone…)” I said to myself as I continued to observe my blood-written paws, now beginning to struggle to stay upright from being so lightheaded.

I hesitantly looked over to my side, and to my horror, the person who blow-darted me was now lying in a pool of blood, with a face beyond recognition and his body now graffitied with claw slashes and bite wounds. I swear I felt my soul exit my body, and I thought I would pass the hell out.

Did…

Did I actually do that to him?

I don’t remember me mauling the fuck out of someone, so I must’ve been through some sort of mindlessness episode.

Due to my now excellent hearing, I heard a quiet stream nearby, so I rushed over to the stream and washed off all the blood that was on me. I made sure to get every drop off of me, as I don’t feel like dealing with trying to explain to mom why I’m covered in blood.

A little while later, I managed to successfully get all the blood off of me and I went to grab my stuff, ignoring the fact that there was a mauled criminal who by the looks of it was now barely breathing. Besides, I had no intention of killing him, but I did have the intent of making him remember my face if he does survive. I put my clothes and shoes into my pants, and quickly got out of there, headed back home whilst carrying my stuffed pants in my muzzle.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

8:58 PM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

The sky was clogged by a thick sheet of puffy clouds, and it was raining heavily, the rain coming down in waves, and the moon was now hidden behind the pitch-black clouds, nowhere to be seen without a trace. It was now as dark as a black hole outside, the streetlights working hard to light up the drenching night. Thunder rumbled in the sky, booming a menacing echo into the distance. Gusts of chill-inducing wind howled past me, stealing my body heat in the process.

And guess who arrived back home.

A soaking wet were-Umbreon.

I put my now soaked stuffed pants down and knocked on the door with my paw. Then I sat down, and waited for mom to answer the door. My fur was dripping wet with water that stank of rain, and shivers boomed across my body, as the rain felt depressingly cold. I continued to wait, trying my hardest not to feel the cold.

What do you know, my mom answered the door. She looked down, and saw me, in werewolf form.

“*Sigh* What am I going to do with you...” My mom softly suspired.

My ears flopped in embarrassment as I let out a quiet whine, my eyes becoming puppy-eyed. Look mom, I’m not perfect.

“I know, you can’t help it. I’ll dry you off in a moment.” Mom said as she let me inside and picked up my clothes.

Once I trotted inside my house, the comforting warmth and safety of my house soothingly eased my shivering body temperature. Warming up was slow enough, so I sped up the process by shaking off as much water as possible, soaking everything within a four-foot radius. I then waited in the bland entrance hall for mom to dry off and put the dirty clothes in the hamper, and for her to get the necessary things to dry me off.

Mom came back with a hairdryer, comb and a fresh towel. She started by drying me off with the towel, squishing my tail, coat of fur, ears, and paws to ensure she got the loose moisture off. Then she plugged in the hairdryer and put it on the high setting. As the appliance whirred to life, a gust of hot air hit me, much like an unsuspecting heatwave during the summer. She gently waved the appliance while combing my fur, evaporating every drop of water possible.

“How was it at your friend’s house? Did you have a great time?” My mom asked me.

I smiled and nodded, my tail starting to wag. Yes, I did have fun, just not during my walk home.

“I’m glad to hear you had fun.” My mom replied, a smile on her face.

Soft, warm and cozy feelings were present. I couldn’t help but start to emit a soft, purring sound from how comforted I felt with the gentle combing, and the sweaty yet soothing warmth of the hairdryer. My eyelids began feeling heavy and difficult to keep open, me just keeping them closed from the cumbersome comfort.

Eventually, mom finished drying me off, and turned off the hairdryer. My fur was now so floofy and soft that I now looked like a dark storm cloud. Even the fur on my face looked humorously fluffy. Mom couldn’t resist but giggle like a fox, and I had a facial expression that was both shocked and… kinda embarrassed.

Holy crap, I feel like a cloud, too!

But these surreal feelings didn’t last that very long, as mom picked me up and gave me a nice big hug, rubbing my head and my ears. This happening instantly reverted me back to being very sleepy. Pretty soon I lost the fight to stay awake, and I drifted away into a state of siesta. Mom noticed this since I was now letting out a quiet snore here and there. She made her way to my room with me still in her arms, tucked me in bed, and turned off the lights.

Undisturbed, I slept a peaceful slumber until morning rolled around.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Saturday, April 25th, 2020, 10:01 AM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

I woke up, feeling both refreshed and tired, not to mention very cold, too. I wagged my tail a little to get it comfy, but I didn’t feel it move at all, which confused me greatly. Confused teenage me pushed aside my blanket, and saw no signs of a tail.

I had no tail.

Or any clothes on.

This again, huh?

The very first thing I did was to get some clothes on. I got out of bed, went to my dresser, and got some daytime clothes on. Once I got some clothes on, my phone suddenly went off, letting out a “ding!” sound. The phone screen showed a notification from the messages app, saying:

A1. Mom (ICE) says: Please check your Gmail. Wild animals are dangerous at night, and this is why I don’t recommend you going out at night.

I unplugged my phone, unlocked it, and went to my Gmail. She emailed me what appears to be a news article. I clicked it, not suspecting anything too abnormal. What could this be about?

Once the site loaded the article title read “Man attacked by an animal dies hours later in hospital.”

My heart sunk.

I already knew what this was going to be about since I basically WAS there when it happened. Or it could be another situation that wasn’t involved with me. The article read:

“If you are planning on taking a walk tonight, you might want to reconsider after you read this news story. A man was found on the side of the road last night with lots of scratches and bite wounds on his body and with a face beyond recognition in Pleasantdale when Pleasantdale police received a call that the caller had heard quote ‘A person screaming for help and an animal growling loudly.’ He was then rushed to the hospital where he then died about three hours later due to severe blood loss, trauma, and neurogenic shock. Police this morning were able to identify the man as 27-year-old Johnson Suntduffin. What’s more interesting is that Johnson Suntduffin was later discovered at the crime scene to have been carrying three blowdarts containing an unknown liquid in his right jean pocket, which has led Pleasantdale police to believe that this was the same person who blow-darted a male teenager in Pleasantdale about a month ago. At the crime scene police also found a pocket knife with a three-inch blade at the side of the man and bite marks on the man’s right wrist, which most likely meant that the man did try to defend himself, but the savage animal bit his wrist before the man was able to stab the animal, making him drop the knife. Due to the appearance of the scratch marks and bite wounds the man had, police believed that a fox-like animal was the animal that had attacked him. When his friends and family heard the news, they were both devastated and shocked at how this could’ve happened. If this news story didn’t make you change your mind on taking nighttime walks, then it is recommended that you carry something to defend yourself if you ever get attacked.”

My heart almost stopped.

I KILLED SOMEONE.

Never in my life had I thought that I would kill someone someday. I’m not the kind of person who would wish death upon someone or try to harm someone. It wasn’t even intentional either. Now I’m going to have to live with being someone who killed someone else. Yes, I don’t remember me doing it, but I know I did it because I was covered in another man’s blood. Part of me wanted to tell mom what happened last night, while the other part of me wanted to keep it secret. But there was a problem with keeping it secret; if I kept it in, I would have to live with it and there was a chance it would slip out at the wrong time and the wrong person. I thought anxiously for what felt like hours about what I wanted to do.

After what felt like an eternity had passed by, I finally decided to tell mom what happened last night. I slowly exited my room, and walked to the living room, my heart pounding so hard I thought it was going to fly out of my chest. My mom saw me.

“Can I talk to you? It’s about last night.” I said slowly as I sat down next to her, stuttering.

“Ok?” Mom said.

And so I started to tell her everything that had happened last night; me peacefully walking home and then someone assaulting me, me defending myself and then confronting him, him telling me that he was the person who blow-darted me, and then me becoming a werewolf. As I started to tell her about how he ended all wounded up, my words started to falter and tears trickled down my cheeks as my throat began to feel as if I tried swallowing a bowling ball. I even told her that I had no intent on killing him and only had the intent of making him remember my face. The moment I finished telling her what happened last night, I wanted to sink into the floor as I feared for the worst, breaking down in tears as I hugged my mom, apologizing to her profusely for my actions.

My mom didn’t flip out on me or anything like that. She was so shocked that she didn’t know how to react. She hugged me back.

“I forgive you.” My mom said softly.

“R-r-really?” I sniffled.

“Yes.” Mom softly replied.

Part of me strongly believed that she wasn’t forgiving me for my actions, but something in me realized that my antihero-like actions were probably for the better. Why? Because it meant that Johnson won’t be able to blowdart anyone anymore. Besides, if he did survive and went to prison, he will most likely start his blow-darting business again when he gets released. My mom strongly advised that I don’t tell anyone else what I did so I don’t get into any trouble.

My mom won’t ever see me the same again.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Tuesday, June 2nd, 2020, 7:00 PM.
My House, Pleasantdale.

Over a month since the encounter with Johnson had passed like a VHS tape on fast forward, and I have somewhat moved on from it. It was no surprise that I did have weekly nightmares about it, and it should be pretty obvious by now what the cause of me waking up drenched in sweat and uncomfortably thirsty about once a week is. Not only is meeting the person who made my life hell able to shake me up the wrong way, but seeing such gore was just on another level. Having hemophobia only makes the memory worse.

About two weeks ago my friends introduced me to this one girl. Her name is Natalie, she has long, beautiful blonde hair, is the same height as me, her birthday is in April (she’s currently 17 years of age), and has stunning blue eyes that could hypnotize even the strongest of souls. She’s super nice, and is a very caring person. Best of all, she has two of the same interests as me; Pokémon and automotive stuff! Over two weeks, we got to know each other better, and a few days ago decided to go out together for the first time. She goes to my school (I already know that since I met her a few times at school), and turns out she also does Automotive Technology like me at the trade school I go to, except she’s in the neighboring class as me.

The time that showed on the kitchen clock was 7:00 PM and I’m getting ready to go to the park with Natalie. I checked the weather and the moon phases, and the weather was partly cloudy and very serene, and with a full moon tonight. I messaged Natalie saying that we should go to my house when it gets dark. She texted back that she was fine with that. I then got my shoes on, got my pocket umbrella in case anything happens, hugged my mom goodbye, and headed out the door.

Hopefully nothing goes wrong

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

7:07 PM.
Pleasantdale Park.

After a while of walking to the park where Natalie is, I texted her that I have just arrived at the park she was at, and she texted me back saying where she was in the park. The moment she texted me where she was, I saw her at a tree, waiting for me. I waved at her with a huge smile on my face, and she noticed me, her waving back at me also with a smile on her face. We then greeted, and we went for a walk together until it got dark.

The only thing I’m worried about is how she’ll react when she finds out I’m a werewolf. What if she takes me the wrong way?

I’m starting to worry too much.

Let’s just enjoy our time together and not worry about that bullshit.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

9:05 PM.
Town Of Pleasantdale.

The sky was a shade of black, a handful of clouds dotted along the night sky, with stars sprinkled across the night sky. Natalie and I are now coming over to my house. Whilst we were walking home, we were talking about automotive stuff and Pokémon.

“What’s your favorite Pokémon?” I asked Natalie.

“My favorite is Nickit. What about you?” Natalie replied.

“Mine is Glaceon.” I replied.

“Oh cool,” Natalie said.

“Pun intended?” I giggled.

“Yes.” Natalie laughed.

We continued to exchange conversation, until I suddenly obtained some weird feeling in me that interrupted me mid-sentence, making me freeze. My soul left my body, with me recognizing that feeling.

Oh no...

The mysterious feeling!

I swiftly looked up and saw the silvery light of the full moon menacingly shining down upon me. I gasped loudly and quickly grabbed my umbrella, opening it as I feared for the worst. My heart was thumping fiercely like the speakers at a concert, my hands trembling from the shock I felt. Natalie was obviously very confused by this, and thought I was just trying to make her laugh.

“Silly! It’s not supposed to rain until next Tuesday!” She giggled.

“Please don’t laugh at me, you don’t understand,” I replied, not in the slightest mood for laugher.

“Huh? What don’t I understand?” She asked as she tilted her head in confusion.

Unfortunately, I had to break it to her, and I was extremely hesitant in my words. I worried over and over in my head...

What will she think of me? Will she ever see me the same again? How will she react? Does she have a fear of werewolves? Is she going to see me as a freak of nature?

“I’m so sorry. I’m-I’m a-a-a... a werewolf.” I stumbled softly.

“What?” Natalie said.

“I’m a werewolf,” I replied.

“No way, seriously?” She questioned jokingly, a smile on her face.

“No, seriously. I am,” I responded back in full seriousness.

“Wha- Ok? How did you become one?” She asked me.

I really didn’t want to tell her about what happened due to how painful and scary that situation was, but I proceeded to tell her anyway, since I know she was going to have a mountain of questions. The story started with me saying that about two months ago I woke up on a nice sunny day and decided to take a walk in town, but then someone blow-darted me, which then resulted in me going to the hospital, and thankfully nothing bad happened. However a week later, while I was going to bed, I had the idea of opening my blinds which then resulted in me traumatically yet painfully becoming a werewolf. For reasons that should be obvious by now I didn’t tell her that I was the one who encountered and wounded up Johnson a month later. Natalie felt very bad for me that this had happened to me and that I now have to live life this way.

“Can I tell you something?” Natalie asked me.

“Yes, you may.” I slowly said, trembling slightly from how traumatic the memory of me being blow-darted was.

“Look, you’re not alone; my older brother got blow-darted by the same person in a different town, and he chased the person who blow-darted him, but he then lost him. I read a news article about a month ago that the person who blow-darted my older brother was then killed by an animal. The good news is that my older brother never became a werewolf like you did, he even went out during full moons and nothing happened.” Natalie said as explained her older brother’s side of what happened.

“I’m sorry to hear,” I softly replied.

Me and Natalie then hugged in the moonlight, with me still holding my umbrella.

“You wouldn’t mind if I for some reason accidentally became a werewolf in front of you right? I’m not hostile at all in my werewolf form.” I questioned her.

“No, I’m totally fine with that. I like you, just the way you are.” Natalie smiled.

Her saying that made me smile and tear up a bit. That was much less bad than I thought it would turn out to be. Have I finally found someone who would love me despite what potholes try to ruin our relationship? Is this the best girlfriend of them all? Will our friendship be unbreakable? I’m hoping those questions turn out to be true.

“Thank you.” I softly said, a tear trickling down my cheek.

“No problem.” She replied.

“Will you promise to keep this secret between you and me?” I again asked.

“Without a doubt I will. I don’t wish to have this information fall upon the wrong ears and hands. God knows what could happen if I were to spread this information to anyone else.” She responded, looking me directly in the eyes.

Me > “Good. Wait… what were we doing again?”

Natalie > “Walking back to your house to have fun.”

Me > “Right right…”

Maybe… being a werewolf isn’t as bad as I thought? Maybe it’s also some sort of blessing as well? I began to look on the positive side of being a werewolf. I think living life as a werewolf will most definitely be more fun and more interesting.

Imagine the exciting moonlit summer nights!

Awoooooooo!!!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Friday, June 19th, 2020, 10:52 AM.My House, Pleasantdale.The highly anticipated season of summer is starting tomorrow, and the days have already gotten very hot, not to mention a little brutal from how harsh the sun has become. School’s already out for summer break; the last day of school only being a couple of days ago, on Wednesday to be exact. Saying that I was extremely hyped-up for the first day of summer was an understatement, despite the passionately loved season having a reputation for being hot, miserable, and having the ability to give you what’s known as a painful sunburn if you don’t apply sunscreen or don’t apply it properly. Did I mention that I am also supposed to go out with Natalie tomorrow if the weather’s nice? Oh, and did I also mention that the greens of summer are now finally here? Now the trees are no longer leafless and they no longer make the atmosphere of any place very dull, lifeless, and very morbid, like something out of a horror movie. Spring is starting to evolve into summer.And then there’s me, slowly beginning to wake up from a well-rested slumber, feeling refreshed as a not-so-normal teenager can be. I attempted to get out of bed, but the warm comfort of my bed kept me from getting up. I slowly glanced over at the time on my alarm clock, still unable to get up.10:52 AM the time showed.So it turns out I woke up a little late, but I didn’t mind. Besides, I didn’t have school and there wasn’t anything important happening soon that I had to attend to, so it didn’t matter. Plus the comfort of my bed refused to let me go, so I decided to watch a video or two on YouTube on my phone until my bed declared mercy on me.After what seemed like hours but was only just a few minutes, the soothing comfort of my bed seemed more willing to give up, and I quickly took advantage of that, throwing the blanket off to the side. I slowly got out of bed, my feet meeting the soft, grey carpeted floor. Teenage me then walked to the bedroom window, opened up the blinds, and was instantly greeted with a bright, sunny day. A small yet irresistible smile formed on my face as the light of a possible great day came to my eyes.“Today’s going to be a great day.” I thought to myself as the idea of going out for a walk on this gorgeous day crossed my mind like a friendly passerby on a calm day.As I was thinking about what I could do besides sitting in all day playing video games as every other teenager would, I heard a knock on my door, and the sound of my door being opened. It was my mom.“Since today was very sunny out, I decided to make you some pancakes to help start your day better.” Mom said with a smile on her face.“Aww, thank you so much.” I replied with a huge smile.“No problem. The pancakes are ready when you are.” Mom said as she gently closed my bedroom door, and waited for me at the kitchen table.I left the comfort of my bedroom and went to the kitchen to find out that mom did make some pancakes for me. The pancakes had steam slowly rising from them, they were a perfect golden-brown color, and were drizzled with that sweet and sticky syrup everyone loves that comes from maple trees. I sat down and began to eat them, smiling as the satisfying yet syrupy taste hit me. But as I was eating, a dark yet eerie thought came to mind.Is today going to be a repeat of that dreadful spring day?What the heck am I thinking?! The dark thought I had was starting to get a little excessive and I am most definitely mentally overreacting, so I pushed that troublesome thought towards the back of my head and forgot about it. Yeah, this day is starting in the same way as the day where I got blow-darted in my back, but it simply can’t just happen again. The chances of me getting blow-darted again are zero; besides, getting blow-darted in public is the same chance as getting struck by lightning three times in a single day let alone in twenty-four hours, but somehow I was that damn unlucky to get blow-darted whilst taking a relaxing walk in town. Let’s also not forget that Johnson is also as dead as a fucking doornail, and that there is nobody on this planet that will follow in his footsteps to continue his horrid tradition.Wait a minute…Are we supposed to be having a great day today and not be caught up with our past?I think we are.Me > “So I was thinking about taking a walk in town today. Is that ok with you?”Mom > “Yes, it is ok with me.”Me > “I thought you would be uncomfortable about me going out ever since I got blow-darted.”Mom > “I’m not. Besides, the chances of there being another blow-darting incident are next to nothing. Plus, you can’t be fearful of everything your whole life.”Me > “It’s not that I’m fearful of everything, it’s that I don’t know if you are uncomfortable with me going out ever since that fateful spring day.”Mom > “I’m perfectly fine with you going out as long as you are aware of your surroundings. That’s all that matters. If I’m fine with you hanging out with Natalie outside, then I’m most certainly fine with you going for a walk.”Me > “Well I’m glad that you aren’t uncomfortable with me going out. I was just wondering, that’s all.”Mom > “Plus, are you sure you want to go outside? It’s starting to become blistering outside.”Me > “Yeah. I was wanting to go to the park for a while.”Mom > “Just put on some sunscreen, bring a water bottle and a wet rag with you.”Me > “Got it.”To be honest, I thought that mom was unwilling for me to get out into the great outdoors on my own ever since that terrifying day, but look, she has let me go out with Natalie before. But I guess that’s how mothers can be. They can be worrisome no matter their child’s age.I got my shoes on, got an ice-cold water bottle, a cold wet rag, applied some sunscreen, and headed out the door. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a sweltering and sweat-inducing breeze. There also wasn’t a cloud in sight! The climate outside wasn’t very recommended for taking a walk, but I was prepared to beat the harsh heat and to sweat some bullets. Before I went to the park, I decided to just pay a quick visit to the location in town where I got blow-darted. I didn’t know why I wanted to do this, all I know is that I for some reason felt like doing that.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------11:01 AM.Town Of Pleasantdale.The town was burning hot and surprisingly empty, a few cars being on the scorching road and a few people walking around town, minding their own business. It most likely could just be because it’s too hot outside for doing anything outside-related. The road was on the verge of becoming sticky and gross, the heat visibly yet slowly boiling from the black pavement and into the sky. The sun’s rays were beating down on me mercilessly as my temperature began to steadily rise, sweat beginning to secrete from my sunscreen-lathered skin.After a little while of walking, I arrived at the location where the unthinkable happened about three months ago. As I took in my senses, a shockwave of flashbacks hit me like an oncoming train, bringing back painful memories of when I was blow-darted, the memory of that event being rememberable as if it all happened yesterday.I could remember me thinking about the upcoming summer, excited about all the possible things I could do to make the most out of the scorching hot season, when out of nowhere I felt my back receive a painfully quick blow swiftly followed by a shooting lingering pang, which interrupted my deep thought of the soon to be exciting summer like an alarm clock waking someone up from a great dream. Not thinking of the shock I’ll soon encounter, I swiftly turned around to see who had the nerve to assault a minor, but not a single soul was present nor did I see anyone running away, which confused me greatly as to how someone could just assault me and disappear in the blink of an eye. But, something was sticking out of my back; I could feel it. As I was feeling my back, my hands came across a long object that had a glassy texture to it and had something soft and fluffy on the top of it. I didn’t know what I felt, so I pulled the object out from my back, causing much more unwanted pain. Once I pulled it out, I looked at what the hell I pulled out from my back, only to find out it was a blowdart! I could remember me being so scared and worrisome about what could happen next, and also me afraid down to the marrow of my bones that I would quite possibly die. My right hand swiftly pulled out my phone from my back pocket and I dialed 911 to tell them what had just happened. I even informed my mom, which scared her beyond belief. Next thing you know, a few police cars and an ambulance including my mom arrived at the scene, my mom rushing towards me, crying her eyes out whilst hugging me and wondering profusely if I was ok or not. I later gave the blowdart to one of the police officers so the police could investigate it, and the paramedics put me on a stretcher and hauled me off to the hospital within a heartbeat.You should know full well by now that I also have had horrible nightmares about the whole tragedy ever since it happened, as I am still shaken up due to how quickly things went downhill. But surprisingly the only time I remember about the whole blow-darting incident besides my nightmares is when someone mentions it or when I come to this exact spot.Enough is enough; this spot has been visited long enough. I’m walking over to the park since I’m starting to get flooded by lots of negative thoughts and feelings.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------11:06 AM.Pleasantdale Park.After a little while of walking, I arrived at the park. The moment I set foot in the park, memories of me with Natalie at this very park began settling in. I even remember the exact tree I saw her at. The memory of meeting up with a friend is so much better (and comforting?) than the memory of being blow-darted. I came to this park because this park has many paved paths you can walk on, and I haven’t walked on a few of those paths in over two months. One of my most favorite paths in the park goes into a woodsy area filled with leaf-covered trees. Not only is it because it’s ideal for going on nature walks no matter the weather (whether it be rain or shine), but something about that path just fills me with a certain feeling that’s impossible to describe. The best I could do to describe that feeling is a pleasant, mellow yet magical feeling. Not to mention the rays of sunshine reaching through the foliage makes the immersion so much deeper. It’s like I’m connecting with mother nature herself.But as I was walking along the tree-covered path, admiring my surroundings, I noticed another path going in another direction. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I have never seen that path nor have I walked a foot on it. Besides, the path looked fairly new. Maybe the path had been made about a week or two ago at maximum? I decided to further investigate it to see what was up, because I’m curious by nature (no pun intended).My black Vans made contact with the hot new pavement, and I began walking on the new path, paying the best attention to my surroundings. I honestly don’t know how far this path goes, but it caught my interest enough for me to walk on it for as long as I was willing to go.Not one and a half minutes later, the ground near and around the path was now consisting of many small ponds and muddy grounds. This made me more focused on not accidentally walking off the path and ruining my new shoes or quite possibly getting sucked under, but the mud isn’t THAT deep, is it? Can’t possibly be; I’m starting to have a tendency of over-predicting and overreacting.Around two minutes later of walking and the ground that was near and around the path was now looking more solid and not muddy. I don’t quite know why it caught my interest a little, but it’s probably because it made me more aware of my surroundings. I continued to walk until the path ended or until I was unwilling to go any further.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------11:18 AM.Some Paved Path Outside Of Pleasantdale, [Undisclosed Location Of Current Town].Eight minutes have passed since I started walking on the path, and I was starting to think about turning around and going back to where I started. The path was all scenic and windy, but now it’s starting to feel too long and too far.But just as I was about to give up on exploring this path due to how long it was becoming, I saw an end to the path. My thoughts were then redirected to seeing what was at the end of the path as it caught my attention and caught my interest.What could possibly be at the end of the path?Something magical?A cave, maybe?A nearby river?What could it be?Let’s find out, shall we? What lies at the end of the path isn’t going to be explored itself, you know.My main focus was getting to the end of the path to see what new unexplored things were awaiting for me. There could be anything at the end of the path, and it could be explored just by a few more moments of walking.Just as I began to become deep in thought as to what was at the end of this newly formed path, I have arrived at the end of said path. The path ended, merging to a sidewalk that was right beside a road. I started wondering where I was until I saw a sign next to the path.The town of GLENSVILLE welcomes you. The sign read.“Interesting… It seems that the path has led me to another town.” I thought to myself.This path has quite literally led me to a new place I’ve never been to before, so there was so much to explore and discover for myself. I did not know how big or small the town of “Glensville” was, all I know now is that it exists.First things first, I began walking around the town of Glensville, seeing what the town had to offer. The town was adorned with small little shops, each of them unique from each other, some houses and buildings, and even a little park area. The more I explored, the more and more my interest latched onto this place. From what I could tell, this town appears to be somewhat older and more historic than the town I live right next to due to how the buildings and surroundings looked; maybe this town was established in the late 1800s to early 1900s? I’m going to have to Google the town of Glensville for more information about this place.As I continued exploring this unfamiliar place, I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have gone this far from where I was intentionally walking. Heck, I can’t help that my curiosity has led me to a new place that was about ten / eleven minutes away just by walking. I might explore this place a little more tomorrow when I’m with Natalie; maybe she knows about this place more than me. If so she can probably give me a little tour of this place whilst giving me more information and how much of a significance this place holds if the weather’s nice tomorrow. But today’s not the day for that. Well, at least I got to see and explore what was at the end of the path in a nutshell. I also kinda had fun while doing so, so that’s good.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------10:45 PM.My House, Pleasantdale.Another day has come to an end, and it’s now late at night, with me watching some Neilogical videos on YouTube with my high-tech iPhone XR to pass the time until my 11:00 PM bedtime comes around. I was of course very excited about going out with Natalie on the first day of summer like a kid on Christmas morning. Well, if she’s able to.Suddenly, as I went to click on another video, my phone starts ringing. My friend Natalie was calling. I wonder what she has to say to me.Me > “Hello?”Natalie > “What’s up Jimmy? Sorry that I called so late. I meant to call you at around six but I couldn’t since I had to help my mom and dad make dinner, which I then forgot until now.”Me > “Not a worry. I’m doing very well. How about you?”Natalie > “Thanks for asking. I’m doing fine. Are you excited about tomorrow?Me > “Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be excited?”Natalie > “You have NO idea how much I can’t wait to go out with you tomorrow; If the weather’s nice that is.”Me > “I can tell. Oh, what time are we going out tomorrow and where are we meeting in town? We haven’t made a game plan yet.”Natalie > “We will be meeting at the food and drink parlor in Pleasantdale at 5:30 PM.”Me > “Sounds like a plan. I’m hoping the weather forecast stays nice and sunny.”Natalie > “Let’s hope it isn’t rainy with a chance of gloom and doom tomorrow.”Me > “Oh, Natalie, have you heard about a town named “Glensville?” I discovered it on accident because of a path that leads from my town’s nearby park to the town. I have gone into the town, but I only briefly explored it before going back to the park I came from.”Natalie > “Yes I have heard about Glensville, thank you for asking. It’s the town that I live nearby, and it is, unfortunately, the town where my brother got blow-darted by that serial blow-darter. The town of Glensville was established in 1875, which is roughly 30 years before your town was established, not to mention the town is relatively smaller than the town you live nearby. I can give you a tour of the town if you want to tomorrow.”Me > “Gosh, I’d love to do that! I was planning on doing that with you tomorrow. I love exploring new things.”Natalie > “Ok, add that to the list of things to do tomorrow. Anyways, I gotta log off now, I’m getting really sleepy. It was nice talking with you.”Me > “It definitely was. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll even give you an update on the weather via text if anything changes if you like.”Natalie > “Hehe, sure thing, weather boy.”Me > “Haha, I will see you sometime soon.”Natalie > “Goodnight.”Me > “You too.”I then hung up the phone, and proceed to plug in my phone since the time was nearing my bedtime. I know I’m beginning to sound like a broken record, but I’m very excited to go out with Natalie on the first day of summer and further explore the historic town of Glensville. But until then, I gotta go to sleep and catch those Z’s.Hopefully the weather isn’t miserable tomorrow.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------Saturday, June 20th, 2020My House, Pleasantdale.A bad feeling instantly hit me the moment I woke up. I remembered about me and Natalie going out today at 5:30 PM, but I had a terrible feeling that today wasn’t the day for that. I glanced over at the time on my alarm clock, and the time showed 2:30 PM. This was a complete shock to me as I never wake up this late. Wondering how much worse this day could get, I rolled my ass out of bed and looked outside my bedroom window, only to be greeted with a horrible, cloudy, and post-rainy day. The instant I saw this, I was crushed that today was in no way the day to go out with Natalie, and I sighed a deep sigh of disappointment as I checked the weather on my phone, only to find out that it was supposed to rain heavily at 4:20 PM. I opened up my messaging app and blankly texted Natalie saying that today was not the day, and she replied saying that we could go out tomorrow instead. Then I hesitantly proceeded to get dressed in some daytime clothes and exited my dimly lit bedroom knowing full well that today was going to be shitty.“Why can’t my life go right for five seconds? I’m such a fucking mess...” I thought to myself wondering how bad my day could get.Wait, my ENTIRE house doesn’t have any lights on? What the hell has this day become?! Something must be going on.My mom soon saw me and greeted me.“Hello, Jimmy. How are you doing?” Mom greeted me.“Horrible.” I lifelessly responded.“What’s the matter?” Mom replied to my quiet response, concerned that I wasn’t my usual, happy self.Me > “It’s just that I woke up very late, and I found out that today wasn’t the day for going out with Natalie weather-wise.”Mom > “Oh dear… I’m very sorry to hear that. You want something to eat before you start your day anyway?”Me > “No, I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”Mom > “Are you really fine? You’re starting to scare me a little by how you’re acting.”Me > “I’m fine, it’s just that I’m crushed by the sudden weather change disturbing my plans on going out for today.”Mom > “That’s understandable. I’m not having a good day either.”Me > “I’m going to go take a stroll in the park if that’s ok with you.”Mom > “I understand, you just need a moment to yourself. Just be home soon because it will start raining somewhere around four.”Me > “Yes mom.”Yes, I needed a moment to myself due to how crushed I was. But I didn’t need to cry my eyes out because of it; I’m not that crushed. Besides, I wanted to explore the town of Glensville a little further. So I slowly got my shoes on and blankly headed out the door.The moment I headed out the door, an unpleasant musty atmosphere struck me. The ground was wet and it was gross outside; not to mention it was also partially foggy. I looked up at the sky, and an exanimate, monotone greyish-white sky gloomily greeted me back. I gazed into the nearby haze as I started heading towards the nearby park, wondering why the first day of summer was so messed up.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------[DATE ANNUL] [TIME INVALID][STORY_LOCATION_INFO.EXE HAS ENCOUNTERED A FATAL ERROR]The path I was walking on to head over to Glensville wasn’t any more forgiving either; It was much foggier than right where I lived, the path had a malodorous stench to it for some reason, and worst of all, it felt lonely and depressing as fuck. Not a single soul was in sight, not to mention my hometown felt cold and empty, like a complete ghost town. No one was outside today due to how horrible today is right now. I suddenly began to become overwhelmed by a tsunami of sad emotions and feelings as I blankly strolled through the foggy, tree-covered path, and I for some reason began to cumbersomely question my existence.What did I even do to deserve to have a day like this? Did I go wrong somewhere? Honestly, what the hell did I do?The more I walked, the more out of touch I became with my normal, happy self. I felt as if my normal happy self was slowly drowning in an endless ocean of sadness and depression. The feeling of wanting to bawl my eyes out became stronger and more burly as time slowly progressed. It didn’t take that long before I began to tear up, just wanting this misery to come to an end.Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me say “Excuse me, sir.” I looked behind me and saw someone wearing a black hoodie with the hood up, raggedy torn jeans, and black shoes casually approach me. He looked pretty familiar, but I couldn’t wrap my head around why. It could be just me, but I wasn’t at all sure.When he got closer, I saw his face. His face was deformed with scars graffitied about. He also looked as if he was lost and needed directions. Maybe helping him out will cheer me up.“Can I help you? I’m glad to help.” I asked him as I tried my best to form a friendly smile on my tear-ridden teenage face.“Yeah. I’m kinda lost. Do you know where the town of Glensville is? I keep on forgetting.” The man politely asked.“I do,” I replied as I tried to have a cheerful tone.“His voice sounds extremely familiar…” I thought to myself as I slowly began to recognize his voice.“Thanks a lot.” He said in a happy tone, a smile on his scar-ridden face.“No problem. Glensville is right this way.” I said as I pointed in the direction of Glensville.“Thank you very much- NOW GIMMIE YOUR FUCKIN’ WRIST!” He yelled as he swiftly grasped my left wrist.Him suddenly grabbing my wrist immensely took me by surprise, and I of course had no time to react whatsoever. He started to roughly drag me as I began to panic. I was scared beyond belief of what he was going to do to me. As I frantically tried to get him to let go of my wrist, my eyes widened as my brain made a serious realization.It was Johnson. The person who blow-darted me.How the fuck was he not dead?! The news article I read a month and a half ago clearly stated that he passed away due to severe blood loss and trauma.And how was he not locked up in prison if not jail?! There already was enough evidence at the crime scene that he was the person who blow-darted me.Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.“W-w-what are you doing?!” I frantically spoke as I began to tear up again, fearing for the absolute worst.“I’m going to make your life a living hell you smug little punk. Now quit tearing up like a little bitch before I do something to you right now to make you tear up even more.” He firmly retorted with his teeth tightly clenched to the point of cracking.As he continued to brutally drag me by the wrist, I shakily searched my pockets with my other hand so I could get my phone and call for help, but unfortunately, I quickly found out that I didn’t have my phone with me. My heart sunk as I realized that there was no possible way of quickly reaching out for help. I was afraid that if I cried for help he would violently silence me and put me in my place.“P-please stop! What did I even d-do to deserve this s-s-sort of treatment?!” I stuttered as I begged him to stop, tears rolling down my cheeks.“You just tried to kill me in your stupid werewolf form a month and a half ago you imbecile.” He sharply yet angrily replied.“You deserved it after what you did to me.” I firmly mumbled.Suddenly, something in him just snapped, as if those nine words seriously rubbed him the wrong way, and he yanked on my wrist, causing me to fall off the path and into the muddy muck with a SPLAT. I got up and tried getting back up onto the path, but the mud sucked at my shoes with ungodly suction, and I was unable to move forwards as I began to sink into blackish-brown sludge.“I ‘deserved it?’ You deserve to now die!” Johnson aggressively snapped with brutal intent.By the time I had processed everything that was happening, I was already knee-deep in the nasty muck. No, now waist-deep! I was sinking relatively fast, so acting fast was the first thought that came to mind. Yes, I have watched a few videos on how to escape quicksand before and I do know that flailing around while sinking will only make you sink faster, but I have never experienced sinking in quicksand in the entirety of my life. The first thing that came to mind was quickly grabbing on the side of the paved path and begin slowly pulling myself out, but Johnson lifted his foot as if to stomp on my hands, in which I quickly recoiled my hands before his black shoes met my digits. He let out an evil chuckle as he knew that I was doomed and that there was no possible way that I could get out of this sticky situation.“Someone! Anyone! Please help me!!!” I hopelessly cried for help as I began to softly sob.“Listen, kid. Your worthless sorry ass deserved this. Now shut up and take your punishment.” Johnson silenced me with a smug and remorseless grin on his face.There was absolutely nothing I could do. I couldn’t call for help, I couldn’t cry for help, I couldn’t grab the side of the path to get myself out, and I didn’t want to try and push against the muck with my hands because I was afraid that I would only get my arms stuck.The only thing I could do was to just slowly sink towards a slow yet agonizing death.The soft, muddy ground continued to ruthlessly and viciously swallow me as I was now sunken up to my chest despite me barely even moving or trying to agitate the awful muck. All I felt from this moment was sadness and misery, and I continued to softly sob to the point where I felt as if I was going to dehydrate myself.Only a minute has passed since I started sinking and I was already now sunken up to my neck. And now up to my chin. I held my breath as I prepared myself to get submerged under the muck and to most likely die.“Heh heh, ya get what ya fuckin’ deserve.” Johnson chuckled a stone-cold chuckle as he watched me slowly become dragged under.The last thing I saw with my two tear-filled eyes was him slowly waving goodbye whilst maintaining that smug expression on his face. Suddenly, everything faded to black and became eerily silent as I became fully submerged under the horrid muck. I continued to hold my breath as I fought back my breathing reflexes because I refused to die at a young age. I DID NOT want my story to end this way, let alone my life to end this early and in such a grave and barbaric way. Plus, everyone that knew me well would frantically want to know what the hell happened to me. The oxygen level in my body started becoming gravely low as I struggled to keep my breathing reflexes at bay. There was nothing in my power I could do to get myself out.Welp, I guess I have reached the end of the road.I hate to end it this way.I’ll see you on the other side.Wait a minute…What the heck? I feel something strange happening at my lower back.Hold on a second…Is something growing?!I slowly followed my hands to where that pulling sensation was, and I felt my heart stop as I felt a bulge on the butt of my pants slowly becoming bigger and bigger. The instant I felt this, I knew what was going on.“Yup, I’m beginning to transform, this is not good.” I thought to myself.Not long after, I felt the butt of my pants explode open like a bomb, followed by me feeling something long and fleshy struggling to move in the thick, disgusting mud. I continued to hold my breath, wondering how I haven’t wound up dead yet and why this was happening. Since I couldn’t see anything, I didn’t know what animal I was transforming into.My hands began to feel a lot stiffer as the palms of my hands were swelling up and becoming puffy. My nails became sharper and longer into claws, along with my digits becoming shorter and stubbier and my thumbs moving up to my wrists to become dewclaws. I then felt myself begin to… shrink?The same thing began happening to my feet as the digits of my feet became stiffer and stubbier. The bottom of my feet began to become puffy and my toenails became longer and sharper into claws. My big toes moved up my foot, and finally, my heels moved up my legs, making my legs become haunches, which combined with my spine soon cracking into a quadruped position will make standing in a biped position next to impossible.I then felt my arms slowly swing towards the front of me, making my shoulders disappear into my body. My spine abruptly cracked into a quadruped position, which caught me off guard. I then felt something big explode out from my neck. My nose was beginning to feel much wetter and colder. My ears were becoming bigger and longer into ear-fins, and a third fin formed on the top of my head. My teeth became sharper and more carnivorous as my canines became longer into fangs. Soon enough my face began pushing forwards into a muzzle, which felt very weird but a hundred percent painless for some odd reason. As my muzzle was slowly growing, my sclera became a purplish-black color and my pupils went from a normal black color to a lifeless white color.My muzzle then stopped pushing forwards as the hair on my head slowly disappeared from existence, and my body stopped shrinking altogether. The transformation happened pretty quickly, and it took me a moment to process what just happened. My body felt entirely different, and I refused to believe that I was still alive and not dead yet.Due to how long I’ve been sucked under, it started becoming nearly impossible to keep fighting back my breathing reflexes. Now’s the time I had to think extremely fast on how to get out of this deep, slurry-like mud.How was I going to get out of here? Is it even possible to get out?Maybe I could use my tail? I don’t know if my tail was suitable for this but it for some reason felt as if it’s built for swimming, but not for liquids this thick.Let’s give it a go.I’m getting out of this quicksand alive and well.I moved my tail in an up and down fashion as hard and as fast as I possibly could, not feeling at all confident that this would work. Me trying my hardest began putting strain on my new tail. But teenage me was still determined, not knowing if I was moving upwards or not.Once I emerge from this mess, Johnson will pay big time. He almost killed me by making me almost drown in quicksand for crying out loud.Guess I’m taking my revenge again.I was about to give up after only a minute of me trying to swim in a liquid that had the consistency of a swamp, but I began to see again!I have emerged! At last, I made it!The moment I opened my eyes, I let out the biggest gasp for air that I have ever done in my life; the fresh yet musty oxygen reaching to my desperate, oxygen-deprived lungs. I was happy that I didn’t die a horrible death and that I was able to escape one of the toughest traps mother nature had to offer. My dirty paws then met with the moist paved path as I began slowly yet patiently pulling myself out of the extremely deep mud, wincing harshly as I was using a lot of energy.A little while later, I got my entire body out, but my tail was still stuck in the awful sludge. My body was feeling super exhausted; almost as if I had ran a marathon.“Almost there! Get out, you stupid disgusting appendage!” I thought to myself as I tugged at my tail.After what seemed like forever, I managed to fully get my long tail out. I was covered in muck, and my body looked and felt very different. I shook off the disgusting muck that covered my body, droplets of unsanitary sludge being flung off of me and onto the clean, paved path. As I was shaking my body off, I saw Johnson walking away as if nothing ever happened.Did he think that he could simply just walk away from trying to murder a minor?I don’t think so.I started quickly yet quietly walking towards him with rage so powerful it was starting to show on my face. A red haze slowly set in as my vision became red, and I was ready to give him the same treatment he gave me when he asked for directions. Johnson was in for a nasty yet much-needed surprise.The moment I came into combat range of him, I snapped and latched my jaws onto his right ankle, my teeth sinking into his ankle and making Johnson let out a loud and sharp yelp of pain, and I started dragging him down towards the area where he tried sinking me to my death. It could just be me, but the moment I snapped my jaws onto his ankle, I swear I thought I felt one or more of his bones crack. I honestly no longer gave a flying fuck if I kill him or not by what I’m about to do, because let’s be honest, he deserves it.“YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!!!” I growled loudly, with murderous intent.“Whatever you’re doing, please stop! I’m sorry! Please let go of my ankle!” Johnson pleaded.“SORRY ISN’T GOING TO CUT IT! YOU JUST TRIED TO KILL ME, NOW QUIT CRYING LIKE A BABY OR ELSE I’LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!” I growled even louder, my vision becoming redder than the color of blood.“I BEG YOU!” He cried, attempting to get me off of his ankle.I kept on slowly dragging him, using all the energy I had left in my body, and Johnson started to cry out for help. He looked behind him and saw a furious Vaporeon viciously trying to drag down a full-grown man. Fear flared in his eyes as he started regretting what he did to me.A minute has slowly passed and I managed to make it where Johnson had tried to drown me. I dragged him into the murky sludge, and I was quite surprised that I myself wasn’t getting stuck in the mud. I then let go of his ankle and climbed onto the path to watch him slowly sink to his death. He slowly got up and tried walking towards the path, but the murder-thirsty slurry sucked at his shoes and began relentlessly swallowing him. He was frantically flailing and moving his body about, trying to get out, but that only made him sink even faster, and he was sinking FAST. He was already sunken up to his abdomen because of how aggressively he was trying to get out. As the muddy ground continued to swallow him up like a black hole, he looked at me with regretful, tear-ridden eyes, his eyes almost begging me to have mercy on him, but I was unfazed by this, and I smirked at him intently.Barely even half a minute had passed since he started sinking, and he was now up to his chin. His arms were sunken under, and he was unable to get them out to try and save himself. The only thing I responded with was smugly blowing a raspberry at him as his face slowly became sunken under the quicksand.But I wasn’t done yet.I stayed a little while to make sure he didn’t resurface. It’s evil, I know. But it’s necessary so he doesn’t come back to cause more trouble; god knows how much trouble he has caused in other people’s lives. The more I think about it, the scarier and more unsettling it gets.Just as I was about to go on a thinking spree about how much crime Johnson had committed and just as my vision no longer became red, a few bubbles rose to the surface of the muck and popped, indicating that Johnson was now dead.“You know, karma sucks; especially the ground.” I smugly snickered.Yup, I killed someone. But this time it was intentional.Sometimes I have to become the monster in order to do what’s truly right.Now’s the time I process everything that happened and take in my senses. I looked at my now quadruped body and was shocked that my body was different in so many ways. My hands were now stiff and clumsy paws, my skin was a sky blue color, I had a weird neck fin thing on my neck, and I had a long and fleshy tail that was almost the same length as my body and had two fins on the end of it, my tail resembling the tail of a dolphin’s.I decided that this day became horrible enough and started heading back home. My plans with Natalie were canceled due to the shitty weather today, Johnson came along and tried drowning me in quicksand, and now I’m a Vaporeon. What the fuck is up with today?!Wait a sec, how is mom going to react to me being a water dog? How am I going to explain what happened and why it happened?I didn’t know what to do.Suddenly, as I was thinking about what I could do in this awkward situation, I began hearing this loud, constant beeping noise. What the hell is that noise and where is it coming from? The noise sounded rather… familiar to me. I looked around, not knowing why the hell there was a loud and constant beeping noise.Maybe it was a nearby truck? No, it can’t be. Trucks’ backing up signals don’t sound anywhere near like that. Besides, the nearest road is 5 minutes away just by walking, so it can’t be nearby and it can’t be that loud.Wait a minute…It was my alarm.It was all just a dream.I hastily silenced my noisy alarm, and just blankly laid down in bed staring at the white ceiling of my bedroom, trying to process what kind of dream I just woke up from. I wasn’t even awake for fifteen seconds and already I had so many damn questions circling my head that it was starting to give me a headache.“That was weird…” I quietly said as I sat up, softly rubbing the back of my head.Out of fear I quickly jumped out of bed to look outside my bedroom window, and thankfully, it was a beautiful sunny day that I was greeted with instead of the shitty, gloomy one in my dream. I sighed a much-needed sigh of relief, knowing that today was the perfect day for going out with Natalie; now it just needs to stay perfect. I looked at my alarm clock, and the time showed 10:00 AM. For some reason, something in me wanted to tell mom about the dream I had, but I then decided to not tell mom about it because I felt extremely uncomfortable about it. My phone was then unplugged from the white charging cable and I began texting Natalie.“You ready?” I texted her.“Heck yes, I am!” She texted back.“Ok, good. I can’t wait to go out with you at 5:30 PM.” I texted.“See you soon.” She texted back one more time.First day of summer, a great day ahead of me, today will be a beautiful day, even though I woke up from an awful dream. I got some daytime clothes on, ate breakfast, and awkwardly started my day. I’ve had nightmares about the blow-darting incident that happened back in March, but this one was an exception. But lets all forget that this awful dream happened and have a great day, shall we?

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saturday, June 20th, 2020, 5:34 PM.Dave’s Parlor, Town Of Pleasantdale.The weather thankfully stayed nice and sunny, with only a few clouds dotted here and there as the chirping of birds could be heard no matter where you went. There were bunches of people outside today despite it being hot and humid, possibly making the most out of the first day of summer because of how beautiful the weather was. Natalie and I were out in town, standing in line at the food and drink parlor waiting so we could order our drinks to start our day together. The food and drink parlor was a walk-up kind of parlor and is a popular attraction for kids and teenagers that live in or nearby the town I live right next to, and dozens of kids and teenagers were in line today.“Damn, what a depressing dream you had,” Natalie said, feeling awful for me after I told her about the dream I had.“I know. I woke up feeling awkward because of it, and I didn’t feel at all comfortable telling my mom about it.” I replied.“Look, it’s ok. I’m glad you at least told me instead of bottling it up.” Natalie smiled as she gave me a nice and comforting hug.As we continued our conversation, I began thinking to myself, should I really tell Natalie that I was the person who unintentionally killed Johnson? I figured that if I told her, it would probably clear up a lot of confusion regarding the awful dream I had last night since I left certain things out that I didn’t want her knowing. The problem with telling her what happened on that dreadful night is that I don’t know how she’ll react. If I tell her she obviously won’t see me the same again, just like my mom. I didn’t know what to do, and I had to choose wisely.Before I knew it, we were next in line.“Hello. What can I get ya two?” The parlor asked us.“An orange juice, please,” Natalie replied.“An iced tea as well,” I replied.“Comin’ right up!” The parlor said.As we were waiting for our drinks, Natalie noticed something off about me, which concerned her a little. She doesn’t know that I’m fighting with myself internally on how I should do this.“You ok? You seem rather... off.” Natalie asked me.“Y-yeah, I’m alright.” I nervously stuttered as I was fighting my thoughts on what to do.“A-are you sure? You know you can tell me anything that’s bothering you, you know that right?” Natalie again asked, unsure if I actually was ok.“I am, thanks for asking. And yes I do know that I can tell you anything that’s currently bothering me if I had the opportunity to.” I again replied.Right as I replied to Natalie, the parlor came with our drinks.“That’ll be $4.99. Have a wonderful day.” The parlor said, a smile on his face.“Thanks!” We both replied.Natalie paid for our drinks, and we headed off to Glensville so Natalie can give me a little tour of the town where her older brother got blow-darted. I hesitantly sipped on my iced tea as we walked, unsure if I should tell her that I killed that blow-darter or not. Natalie noticed me having a nervous look and a nervous atmosphere around me. She suddenly got ahead of me and stopped me from walking any further, a look of concern on her pretty, slightly freckled face.“Jimmy, please. You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. I know for a fact something is going on with you; your face and your body show it.” Natalie told me in a concerned tone.“F-fine. Can I tell y-you something in that alleyway d-down there?” I shakily responded as I finally budged, pointing to an alleyway that was nearby.“Please do,” Natalie quickly said as we slowly approached the alleyway.We both made sure that nobody was in the alleyway or was watching us. We then went to the very end of the dark and shadowy alleyway to discuss what was up with me.Natalie > “Please tell me what is bothering you; I’m very worried about you. Is someone bothering you? Did someone else find out that you are a werewolf and is threatening to spread that information to other people? What’s going on? I need answers now.”Me > “No, it’s nothing like that.”Natalie > “Then what’s bothering you so god damn much?”Me > “*Sigh* You’re going to hate me for this.”Natalie > “The hell do you mean by that?”I went up close to her ear with my hand blocking one side, and told her the truth. My chest began to ache because of how hard and furiously my heart was pounding, my throat beginning to feel as if I tried swallowing a bowling ball.Me > “I encountered the person who blow-darted me and unintentionally killed him. His name was Johnson.”The moment Natalie heard those words, I could tell her heart stopped as her eyes widened in shock and she slowly covered her mouth with both of her hands.She. Was. Shocked.Natalie > “Wha- Why didn’t you tell me this before when we went out on that spring night?!”Me > “I know. It’s fucked up. Go right ahead and call the police on me. I don’t care anymore.”Natalie > “No. I am not calling the police on you.”Me > “W-w-why? What I did was a fucking crime don’t you realize that?!”Natalie > “Don’t you realize that what you did was an act of revenge against him for what he did to you?”Me > “I have never thought of it like that. Besides, I could’ve just called the police on him and had him arrested. That would’ve been a much better act of revenge.”Natalie > “I’ll have you know that what you did was the best form of revenge possible. Wanna know why? Because if Johnson instead went to prison for god knows how long, when he gets released he’ll start blow-darting more people and turning them into werewolves again. You basically did everybody a favor by taking down a serial blow-darter.”Me > “Can I at least tell you what happened?”Natalie > “Sure. I wish to know the full story.”And so I then started to tell her everything that had happened on that fateful spring night; the story starts with me peacefully walking back home from a friend’s house, and then out of nowhere Johnson came up behind me and spun me around a full fucking one-eighty, to which I promptly defended myself without a second thought. Then the confronting began, telling him to basically fuck off, never touch me or a minor again, and to pound sand someplace else. Out of the blue, when I was done confronting him, he said he was the person who blow-darted me, and more aggressive confronting ensued during which I began turning into a werewolf. Whilst that was happening, halfway through the transformation he began to make fun of me and laugh at me, to which I began getting angrier and angrier, and finally escalated into me being thrown into a mindless rage and ripping into him, and I left him to rot in his blood, him winding up dead a few hours later according to the news article back in late April. I even told her that I had no intent on killing him and only had the intent of making him remember my face.Me > “I didn’t know what I was thinking. I’m so damn sorry.”Natalie > “Look, I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed that you didn’t tell me sooner.”Natalie once again gave me a nice and tight hug and patted my back to comfort me. I hugged her back, relieved that I finally let it out and that she understood me instead of flipping her lid as anyone else would. Natalie then remembered about us going to Glensville for that anticipated tour.Natalie > “We’re supposed to be having a great day. Let’s go and explore Glensville.”Me > “Oh, right. Let’s get going.”We then walked out of the alleyway and began heading towards Glensville, using the new path at my town’s local park while talking about what we have been doing in our lives since we went out on that spring evening. This day was supposed to be about hanging out and having fun on the first day of summer, not dwelling on our past. What am I, a time dweller?~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------6:00 PM.Town Of Glensville.Me and Natalie are now at Glensville, with Natalie giving me the tour of the town that I was so excited about, and all is going excellently. She gave me a tour of the little shops and their unique little qualities, the streets, the small nearby park, and a bunch of other locations in Glensville while spewing out lots of other information about Glensville that I found to be very interesting.We then approached the location where Natalie’s older brother was suddenly blow-darted. She began telling me everything that her older brother experienced during the incident. Apparently, he was taking a walk around town on a nice day in early April when he was suddenly blow-darted. He then felt his back and found out that it was a blowdart seconds later, so out of instinct he quickly looked behind him and saw the blow-darter, holding that instrument used to propel blowdarts, and Natalie’s older brother then started chasing him, most likely to either teach him a hard lesson or to hold him and call the police on Johnson, shouting “Hey! Get back here, you smug criminal! What in fuck’s name are you doing?!” Unfortunately, a few minutes later, he lost Johnson; Johnson somehow managed to outrun him. Luckily, there were a bunch of eyewitnesses; one of them even called the police and told them everything right when it happened. He was then rushed to the hospital, being discharged a few hours later due to the hospital workers not detecting anything life-threatening.“Damn, that hits home harshly,” I said as the memory of me being blow-darted came to mind.“Yeah, pretty much. My brother does get nightmares about it every once in a while.” Natalie replied with an uncomfortable-looking face.“Jesus Christ I feel so bad for your brother.” I quickly spoke in shock.As we were talking, I saw another teenage-looking boy with short red hair, dark grey Salomon sneakers, denim shorts, and a gray short-sleeved shirt slowly walk towards us while giving us a friendly wave. He appeared to be one to two years younger than me at maximum.“Hello, Natalie! How are you?” The boy in question greeted Natalie.“I’m doing good. I’m hanging out with my new boyfriend on the first day of summer, giving him a tour of this town that he discovered by accident. His name’s Jimmy.” Natalie replied.“Hi, Jimmy, nice to meet you. I’m Jason. I’m a friend of Natalie. Sorry that I interrupted your hangout with Natalie.” Jason greeted me, and shook my hand.“It’s alright, no worries,” I responded with a smile as I shook his hand back.“Anyways, what’s been happening recently in your life? Got anything exciting and new to tell me?” I continued.Suddenly, Jason’s face went from happy and cheerful, to embarrassed and nonplussed within a matter of seconds as he slowly looked away with his hands folded behind his back. The moment I saw this happen, I was confused beyond hell as to why his face quickly changed expressions just by a handful of words. Did I say something wrong? Did my words not come out right? No, it can’t be. My words came out right, and I know that for a fact. Maybe a recent event bothered him?“Yoooou ok? Did something bad happen to you recently?” I questioned him with my head tilted slightly in confusion.Jason then hesitantly turned his head and looked at Natalie for a few moments. I stood there in absolute perplexity, not knowing how to react in this awkward situation.“Should I tell him?” Jason quietly yet nervously asked Natalie.“I- don’t think you should,” Natalie answered.“Tell me what? Look, it’s ok to tell me, it’s not like I’m forcing you, I’m only wondering. I promise not to tell anyone else regardless if it’s personal or not.” I calmly spoke.“I… I have… a confession to make…” Jason hesitantly said to me.I could tell that Jason was trying his damn hardest to decide whether or not if he should tell me what was up. He looked as if he was using excessive amounts of brainpower for a single (and not so simple?) decision. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him what was happening recently...“One of my family members was a serial blow-darter.” Jason nervously spoke with a face that screamed unbearable humiliation.My eyes widened. I knew exactly who he was talking about.Me > “Was Johnson one of your family members’ names?”Jason > “Yeah. H-how did you know?”Me > “I read a news article about a month and a half ago that there was a serial blow-darter named Johnson Suntduffin that was killed by an animal; not to mention I was blow-darted on the second day of spring.”Jason > “Oh god did you become a werewolf?!”Me > “Yeah… Pretty much… Besides, I’m not hostile at all in my werewolf form. Plus, how did you know that Johnson was turning people into werewolves?”Jason > “About half a month after the first day of spring, I went to the basement to get my mom something, and I saw Johnson doing something rather odd. I asked him what he was doing, and he smugly replied saying that he was making blowdarts that turn people into werewolves. I was completely stunned by what he said. He even said that he blow-darted unsuspecting people with the blowdarts he created and that he started doing that at the beginning of this year.”Me > “E-eh- W-why didn’t you tell anyone about this?! Only god knows how many people he blow-darted let alone how many of them turned into werewolves!”Jason > “He threatened that if I ever dared to tell anyone about this, he would blowdart me and turn me into a werewolf. Besides, if I told anyone that one of my family members was a serial blow-darter going around turning people into werewolves, nobody would believe me.”Natalie > “Holy shit you didn’t tell me that he threatened to turn you into a werewolf!”Jason > “Cus I was scared to tell anyone and I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”Me > “Well at least you can tell your parents more about the despicable actions of Johnson now that he can’t blowdart anyone anymore.”Suddenly, Jason put both of his hands on my shoulders and looked at me dead in the eyes.Jason > “Look, whatever you do, PLEASE don’t be transforming yourself into your werewolf form in public. I don’t want you raising suspicions and your door then being knocked down by the FBI and they arrest and throw every one of your family members in prison and they then take you away to some sort of testing lab far away to conduct horrendous experiments on you and then cutting you open just to see what your organs and internals look like.”Me > “I know. I have the common sense not to go out when there’s a full moon.”Jason > “Alright, I can’t stress telling you enough. I already regret not telling anyone about this the moment I found out what Johnson was doing.”Natalie > “That reminds me, Jimmy, I haven’t seen you in your werewolf form yet. I promise not to tell anyone else that you’re a werewolf.”Jason > “Well, you can be your werewolf self, just not when there are other people around.”Me > “Anything else?”Jason > “Nothing else. I only wanted to just stop by and say hi to Natalie, but I was then sucked into a conversation.”Me > “No worries. At least I got to know a little bit more about Johnson.”Jason > “I’m extremely sorry about what happened to you and this whole situation.”Me > “Look, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at Johnson who made me become a moonlit monster. Besides, I’ve adapted to my new self.”Jason > “Besides that, I hope you two have a wonderful day despite what is currently happening with you Jimmy.”Me > “Thanks, you too.”Well, that was unexpected.But like I said before, at least I got to know a little bit more about Johnson. We then went our separate ways and continued our day like nothing ever happened. While me and Natalie were finishing up what’s left of the tour of Glensville, we then began thinking of a perfect time to show Natalie my werewolf form. I looked at the weather app and checked the moon phases, and turns out there’s going to be a full moon sometime in the middle of next month. But until then, there’s no other proof I can show her that I’m a werewolf.Little does she know that I’m no average werewolf.I can tell she’s in for a big surprise.~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------Tuesday, July 14th, 2020, 9:37 PM.Pleasantdale Park.At long last. The night me and Natalie have been waiting for.The revealing of my werewolf form.I’m only doing this so I could prove to Natalie that I really was a werewolf.It was a cool and beautiful summer night in the middle of July, and a spectacular, bright full moon was waiting for us. The two of us were coming over to my hometown’s nearby park, away from people so nobody can see us. My pocket umbrella was in my right hand protecting me from the moonlight so I wouldn’t transform yet. Teenage me was really hyped-up and nervous at the same time about showing my girlfriend my werewolf form, my heart thumping like a drummer at a rock concert. The park rules say that the place is open from dawn until dusk, but it’s not like anyone is patrolling the dark landscape. That would be preposterous beyond hell, don’t you think?“This is it, Natalie. The night we have been anticipating for nearly a month.” I smiled.“Yup.” Natalie smiled back.Many moments pass, and we eventually arrive at the park. Let me describe the crepuscular surroundings for you.The dull yet awe-inspiring light of the moon enveloped the surrounding landscape in a mesmerizing silver glow, the park paths sparkling in the pale shimmer of moonlight, as the fireflies were shining their dim green lights every few seconds. The weather was serene, the sky being clear as clear can get, and the stars above were visible as they twinkled in the night sky. The surrounding cool air embraced our skin like a gentle hug, while the unceasing chirping of crickets could be heard. An occasional car from the nearby street clemently passes by every once in a while, emitting a soft wooooosh as they went by.All these things combined into one, blissful experience made the atmosphere of this night beyond surreal; it felt god-like. We looked for a place to sit down and enjoy the light of the moon, settling on a flat, grassy area nearby a gazebo. It may not seem like it, but I was anxiously preparing myself for this moment in every way possible. Before I got to transforming into my werewolf form, we looked around, admiring the moonlit surroundings and the streetlit road that was well far away so nobody could see us from afar.Now’s go time.“You ready?” Natalie asked, excited.“Sort of.” I nervously replied.“Take your time, Jimmy. We’ve got all night. I’m ready when you are.” She responded.Not too long has passed until I finally had the strength to put away my umbrella and face the moon head-on for Natalie. I took a deep breath in, and let it out a few seconds later as my heart continued to fiercely cannonade like a jackhammer at a busy construction site. Out of pure strength, I then slowly closed my umbrella and put it away.“Come on, moon. Transform me into a werewolf! I know you wanna do it.” I smugly spoke aloud, my arms wide open like I’m trying to give someone a bear hug.Many moments slowly pass and out of nowhere, and the same, familiar feeling I get from being in the moonlight fills my body like a shockwave, giving me shivers since I haven’t become a werewolf in nearly three months.A discomforting prickling sensation begins to brew in my hands, soft black fur sprouting out of every pore on the skin of my hands. I did nothing but stand there as my hands became more and more unrecognizable, the moonlight casting down on me as a dim shadow formed from behind. My nails sharpened and become longer into a dangerously sharp set of retractable claws, and the palms of my hands slowly tumefied, fading to black moments later. My hands were starting to feel a lot stiffer than normal as my digits shrunk and as my thumbs slowly moved up to my wrists, shrinking down into dewclaws.My hands are now paws.Yup, it’s happening.There’s no going back now.As the changes progressed, Natalie begins to say, “What’s taking so long? You should be transforming by now. I’m starting to believe that you’re not a werewo-”Without warning, I felt a sharp pang located at my tailbone, making me let out a loud “GAAHHH!!!” and wincing in horrible pain. I began groaning as the transformation progressed, clenching my teeth heavily. This startled Natalie quite a bit. I then fell to my knees, surrendering to the god-awful pain onto my hands and knees.I honestly forgot how painful the transformation was.Maybe I should’ve taken an Advil in advance…Natalie saw me in great pain, and this made her very anxious about me.“Oh god I can’t watch…” Natalie quietly said as she turned away and covered her eyes.“Don’t worry, Natalie. I’m going to be alright.” I responded as I began to feel movement at my tailbone.My soon-to-be tail was trapped in my shorts with no way out. It began pushing against the butt of my shorts with tremendous force, starting to crush my privates a little. As my tail was growing, the black fur on my front paws crept up my arms and soon my shoulders, engulfing them in warm fur. A yellow ring appeared on both of my shoulders, glowing a second later.A few moments later, my tail pushed so hard on the butt of my shorts that it burst open with a loud SSHHRRRIIIIPP!!! I didn’t care that my shorts now had a gaping hole in them since they were crappy and on their way out already. My new floofy appendage was black and had a yellow stripe in the middle, in which the yellow stripe began to glow.Black fur then crept down my entire upper body, making my body feel noticeably warmer and somewhat comfier. The size of my body begins to decrease, soon becoming the same size as a red fox. More fur continues to cover my ever-shrinking body, slowly encroaching over my hips and crotch, and making its way down my legs towards my feet with a harsh, prickling sensation. A yellow ring appears on each side of my hip, also glowing moments later.Eventually, the warm fur reaches my feet, becoming enveloped in a fluffy layer of black fur. Knowing what was soon going to happen I struggled to take off my shoes, managing to take them off despite my hands now being stiff and klutzy paws. My toenails became sharper and longer into razor-sharp retractable claws, the bottom of my feet puffing up into black paw pads as my big toes moved up my feet to become dewclaws while the rest of my toes became stubbier and more huddled together. The heels of my feet (or rear paws, rather) began to slowly sidle up my legs, turning my legs into the rear haunches of a were-Umbreon.“Is it over yet...?” Natalie nervously said.“Not quite yet…” I softly groaned, still in seething pain.Next up on the transformation sequence are my ears. If it isn’t obvious enough, an inexorable headache rampaged my entire fucking head, making me clutch my head with my wicked paws and curl up in more pain. While that was underway, my ears sharpened and became longer, moving up towards the top of my head as they got covered in a light coat of black fur, a yellow stripe forming on each ear and then glowing. Every single sound that I once heard ploddingly became muffled and fuzzy with every second that passed, until all sounds faded into an eldritch, silent oblivion.The painstaking headache, like my hearing, began faltering from its once unbearable strength into a docile, tamable cranial cramp. Along with that, my hearing began to strengthen, every sound beginning to feel as if someone cranked all the damn sound settings on their subwoofers and sound systems to a brutal maximum. The calming chirping of crickets seemingly became a battlefield of relentless racket, the soft gust of an occasional zephyr was on the verge of sounding like a howl in my now sensitive eardrums, and I swear I thought I could make out Natalie trying her best to not have a panic attack.Changes were progressing by the second, the final changes beginning to take place. Still continuing, the fur that now covers my entire body crept up my neck, and soon my face. A yellow ring appeared on my forehead and began to glow a gentle, yellow luminescence. The skin on my nose darkened into the color of night, chilly moisture forming on the surface and glistening in the light of the full moon. My nose then shrunk down, becoming a small button nose, capable of sniffing out even the faintest of scents undetectable by humans. My teeth began to sharpen, becoming more carnivorous as my canines became longer and sharper into ferocious fangs. A killer shade of blood-red washed out the normal, handsome bluish-green color that was once my normal eye color, along with my pupils changing shape from normal round circles into feline-like slits, perfect for seeing in the pitch-black dark. This was then followed by my eyes glowing an evil red radiance. Finally, a sudden buildup of pressure brewed as my face slowly pushed forward into a muzzle, and it felt so painful I groaned harshly in pain with my sharp teeth clenched tightly. Very much expected changes in my spinal position, and the relocating of my arms towards the front of me as my shoulders disappeared from sight followed suit.“I’m… almotht… fimithed… Umbre!” I groaned, muzzle still growing and my voicebox starting to shift.Changes within my body began coming to a halt; the growing muzzle, the changing spinal position, the shrinking body size, and my arms becoming my front legs all began to finish up. Oh yeah, all my hair slowly melted away into my fur, too.That was all she wrote.I’m a werewolf again.I was breathing heavily due to how much pain I endured in such a short timeframe. Natalie hesitantly looked over at me and saw nothing but a pile of clothes, not to mention a bump in the middle of the pile, which was now me. She had trouble processing those terrifying few moments, leaving her scratching her head in confusion.“I-is it now over? W-what happened?” Natalie nervously yet hesitantly stuttered.I slowly crawled out of my clothes, and the moment she saw me, her eyes widened.“Oh my god…” Natalie quietly said in shock.“You’re a werewolf Umbreon?! That’s so awesome!!!” Natalie continued.The moment she said this, my tail began to wag and my spots began to glow a little brighter due to how excited I was becoming. I walked over to her, and she began to inspect me. She couldn’t believe her eyes; she was seeing a real-life Umbreon with her two eyes. What an experience that is don’t you think?“You look exactly like that moon fox from Pokémon.” Natalie giggled.Yup, I most certainly do, because I am. And I’m kinda proud of that.As she continued to inspect my furry body, a moonlit idea sparked in her head like a lightbulb flashing on.“Hey, Jimmy. Do you know what would be cool?” Natalie whispered.“Umbreon? (And what would that be?)” I said with my head tilted in curiosity.“You should howl at the moon like all werewolves do. That would be cool!” Natalie answered.I meet the criteria, but I didn’t really have the strength to do that. My ears flopped as I smirked in embarrassment, my furry cheeks blushing.“Aw come on, just this one time!” Natalie said, cheering me on.Slightly introverted teenage me didn’t really want to do it, but didn’t want to let her down. I turned towards the moon, and prepared myself to let out a howl. I took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, and suddenly let out a loud and long howl right at the moon for Natalie with pride.A few moments later, I stopped howling, my howl echoing into the vast, dark distance. I suddenly covered my mouth with my paws and blushed so harshly I thought that it could show straight through my coat of black fur.“I swear to god, you are the best boyfriend I have ever met!” Natalie said as she gave me the biggest hug I have ever received.Her saying that made my spots glow brighter in happiness, and I smiled as my tail began to wag more rambunctiously. I was glad that I was the perfect boyfriend for her, and I never knew that relationships could flourish, even if one of the persons in that relationship turned out to be a werewolf.Well, I guess good things come in furry and moonlit packages.Best. Summer night. Ever.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Wednesday, July 15th, 2020, 12:13 PM.

Town Of Glensville.

Man, tons of shit has happened to me within these past four months. I won’t be fazed if truckloads more of eventful and memory-scarring days are coming full force my way.

Allow me to recap on what happened during these jam-packed four months.

This whole shitstorm all started on Saturday, the 21st of March, the second day of spring. Since the weather was too nice for staying indoors all day, I decided to take advantage of that and take a lovely walk outside. But, out of nowhere, the most unfortunate of events unfolded; being blow-darted. I called 911 and was brought to the hospital, being discharged a few hours later.

A week later on Saturday, the 28th of March, while I was going to bed, I decided to open my blinds, resulting in me being exposed to a full moon and experiencing the most traumatizing pain I have ever felt while transforming into a were-Umbreon. My mom finds out about the incident the next morning.

Fast forward a month later to Friday, the 24th of April. Teenage me was walking back home from a friend’s house, oblivious to the fateful encounter I will soon have. Under a streetlight, I was aggressively encountered by the person who then told me he was the person who blow-darted me. After many angering moments of trying to reason with him, the clouds started clearing up, revealing a full moon and painfully transforming me into a werewolf (or a were-Umbreon, rather). During my transformation, he began to laugh his ass off at me, which later on resulted in me going into a blindingly nuclear rage, ripping and tearing into him. The next day, to my distraught, I find out he died hours later. Please for the love of god keep in mind I had no intent on killing him, but intent on making him remember my face. Well, he probably remembers my face in hell while burning alive for eternity. I (somewhat) move on from it a month later since that waste of space piece of human garbage had what was fucking coming to him.

On Tuesday, the 2nd of June, after school I went out to hang out with Natalie for the first time, that day being a memory I hold fondly in my heart. Even when I confessed to her that I was a werewolf, she still considered me as a wondrous friend. Our friendship only grew from there despite what future potholes try to break it.

Friday, June 19th, the day before the summer solstice arrived, I stumbled upon a town called “Glensville” after exploring a path that looked to be no older than two weeks old. I asked Natalie if she knew about said town, and turns out she knew bunches, not being surprised since she lives right next to town. Later that night I had a nightmare about encountering Johnson again, but this time he tried drowning me in quicksand, which almost killed me but I manage to resurface, his plan on drowning me backfiring when I sunk him under instead.

The first day of summer, Saturday, the 20th of June, Natalie and I went out so she can give me a tour of Glensville, but noticed me being off. It got to the point where she demanded I tell her what was bothering me, and I complied. I then tell her I accidentally murdered that serial blow-darter, and she was shocked that I would do such a thing, yet she told me that my actions were probably for the better.

Later that day we did the tour of Glensville, and we met this boy named Jason. We exchanged conversation, but that conversation went down the darkest of paths. Turns out one of his family members was Johnson, the person who blow-darted me and made me become a moonlit monster. Besides all the dark stuff that I learned and spoke about, the first day of summer was rather, magnifique.

Last but not least on Tuesday, the 14th of July, Natalie and I went to my town’s park in the still of a wonderful, god-like night so I could reveal my werewolf form to her. After I allowed myself to transform, Natalie was so thrilled that I turned out to be a were-Umbreon. She then suggested I howl at the moon, to which I did so I wouldn’t let her down. Now she thinks I’m the best boyfriend she has ever had, and I fully agree with her (almost).

What a wild ride it’s been, don’t you think? I wish I could say those were some rough months, but I have an execrable feeling future events will make these previous four months look like a jokingly minor mishap.

Here we are today, the date being the 15th of July and the time being 12:13 PM, in Glensville. Since I felt like hanging out there for the majority of the day, not to mention I wanted to take a peek inside the many shops there. The first shop I decided to check out to escape the scorching summer heat was a vintage comic shop, most likely founded in the early 1980s. I forgot to mention that this was the same location Natalie, Jason and I had that rather… disturbing conversation where I learned the origins of Johnson’s heinous crimes.

Da-ling!

Was the sound of a small, heavily tarnished brass bell as I opened the door and entered the small shop, instantly catching the store owner’s attention. The store owner was a man that looked to be in his late ’20s. He had nice black hair and was wearing a classic, light blue Spiderman shirt that had faded almost to oblivion which took me a moment to make out the faint text on his worn-out shirt.

“Heya! How are you doing today?” The store owner greeted me.

“I’m doing good, I’m just here to look at the comics,” I replied.

“Fair enough,” He replied back.

The inside of the store was stuffed to the point of bursting at the seams from shelf to shelf with classic comics, figurines, classic posters of superheroes, and so much more all lined up neatly against the brick walls. A small yet comfy area with wooden chairs that had plush red seats and a small table so you could kick back, relax, and become lost in the comic you were reading was located on the other side of the shop. I walked around on the pale, creaky wooden floor that laid beneath my feet as I looked in awe, trying my hardest not to grab a comic and read until my eyes fall out.

As I mindlessly wandered the small, nearly 40-year-old shop, with my brain drowning in nothing but comic-related thoughts, my eyes came across something that stuck out to me the most. It looked to be a small half-slotted cardboard box with 25 issues of a comic. I walked closer to the comic stack to see what this comic could be.

The moment I saw the comic that caught my attention, I gently grabbed the first issue, and carefully studied its cover.

Full Moon Fever

The wicked adventure of a teenage werewolf!

Read the cover.

No idea why, but my eyes promptly widened when I saw the cover.

Did someone witness me being a werewolf and decided to make it into a com… oh what am I thinking? I’m getting too paranoid. Besides, the werewolf on the cover was a ginormous, muscular, fluffy brown beast instead of some puny Umbreon, not to mention the release date of the first issue I had in my hands was back in August of 1993. Being published this long ago meant that it existed two years before Pokémon was released to the public, plus its nearly 10 years older than me.

I curiously took a glance at the back cover of the comic, not expecting too much from some retro novelty of the nineties. The back read:

One sleepy summer night, a teenager was walking down a street-lit road, oblivious to what might unfold. The first second he’s in a state of undisturbed peace, the next, he’s suddenly mugged and ambushed by three men in hoodies and attires the color of the darkest nights. Don’t be fooled, as this wasn’t any ordinary mugging. He was kidnapped beyond his control, and what they do to him next would change his life forever. The men conducted horrifying experiments on the defenseless teenager, which a few weeks later, transformed him into a moonlit beast of supernatural strength whenever the silvery light of the moon came upon him. Be prepared to be on the edge of your seat, as this comic is jam-packed with hair-raising thrills and twists nobody would ever expect as this teenager learns to harness his wicked new powers, and attempts to solve the mystery of the three men and take his revenge!

This...

THIS hit home more than anything that has ever hit home for me in my entire life. I could already tell that I could relate to many things within this comic.

I don’t think “relating” is the best I could describe it.

I resonated with it. Oh god, the emotions I felt while reading the back; holy shit!

I’m sold. I must buy the entire comic volume (if it’s for sale). Jeez, do I even have the money? I have my wallet, but can I afford it?

“Is this entire volume for sale? If so, how much does it cost?” I asked the store owner.

“Yes, but the comics are not for individual sale so you must buy the entire box. The price is $6.25.” The store owner replied.

Ok, it’s for sale, but the question is, do I have the money? I pulled out my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans and opened it, nervously sweating as I’m not sure if I even have the money or worse none at all.

Aw sweet! I can afford it! I only have ten dollars, but that’s better than nothing. I pulled out my ten-dollar bill from my wallet and handed it to him, him returning $3.75 in change. The entire first volume of Full Moon Fever is now mine; mine for me to read and relate to. The cardboard box full of comics was surprisingly a little lighter than I had expected since a stack of paper is relatively heavy if you think about it. I thanked the store owner, and he thanked me back for my business.

The moment I walked out the door, the harsh summer heat pummeled me in a heartbeat, the feverish heat overwhelming me. The UV index in the general area where I live during the summer is intense enough to give someone a sickening sunburn for the low price of not putting sunscreen on correctly or worse forgetting to put it on. It’s even intense enough to give someone sun poisoning if they're unlucky enough. You can say that the sun is a deadly laser for your skin if you’re not careful enough. Fortunately for me, I had some industrial-grade sunscreen lathered yet well blended on my skin. Even with sunscreen, a hat, sunglasses, and protective clothing, my skin felt like it was on the verge of sun poisoning.

The comic shop was located a few shops away from the small park; the park in question had a tiny flower garden, and a nice big tree capable of blocking off the menacing ultraviolet rays with some tabled benches gathered around. From where I was standing, a small cafe named Glensville Café stood to the very left. Retreating to the tree was a must, as I was starting to overheat. Ugh, I could go for a dunk in the pool right now… but unfortunately I don’t have swim clothes or a pool pass for Glensville pool so there’s that.

Once I came under the cool, shady oak tree, I put down the entire Full Moon Fever comic volume on one of the tabled benches, and sat down to read. My right hand pulled out the first issue from the brown, half-slotted cardboard box, the glossy comic smoothly sliding out. I opened the first page of the comic, and started reading, taking my mind off of everything and relaxing. From there, it was pretty straightforward; read until my eyes fall out or until I cry to the point of dehydration from how much I’ll relate to this comic.

Nine pages in, I saw out of the corner of my eye a girl that was in her late teens approach me, a smile on her pretty face while waving gently towards me. She had green eyes of the most brilliant of emeralds, long, curly light blonde hair, and was wearing her cafe attire. Her hair lazily wafted about in the passing zephyr, a blonde glow forming from the burning shine of the midday sun.

“Hey… Um, you need something?” I asked her, folding the corner of the page I was on, and putting the comic aside

“Your name is Jimmy, correct? I just need to have a quick word with you.” She asked, sitting down across from me.

“Yes, that is correct,” I replied.

“I’m Isabelle. I’m Jason’s older sister,” Isabelle stated.

“You mean Jason whose family member turned out to be a serial blow-darter?” I questioned her.

“Yes, that one. The one you exchanged conversation with on the first day of summer,” She stated with a curious look.

“H-how’d you know about the conversation I had with Jason?” I struggled to speak.

“I usually work from nine to three, but on that day I decided to work overtime and work until seven since we had to serve a tremendous number of people on that day. My boss allowed me to take a break from work, so I chilled in this park, looking through my social media. As I did my thing on my phone, I saw my brother talking to you and Natalie, but I was barely able to make out your conversation,” Isabelle explained.

“I admit it. I’m the victim of a serial blow-darting and now I’m a werewolf,” I sighed, not being too proud of saying that in any way.

“Jesus Christ, that must be rough. What’s it like being a werewolf?” she hesitantly asked.

“To be brutally honest with you, being a werewolf is more terrifying than you might think. First of all, whenever you are caught in the moonlight, the transformation from human into werewolf is not only excruciatingly painful, but also traumatizing in some cases because of the crazy amount of pain you experience. Well, the time I first became a werewolf was so painful I quite literally thought I was about to die. The next transformations however were less painful, but still hurt like a bitch. Second, you eventually develop a terrifying fear of the moon. Third, you can’t go out when the full moon is visible at night. But if you do have to go out for some unique reason, you’ll have to carry a UV-resistant umbrella to prevent becoming a werewolf,” I nervously explained to her in brutal honesty, the insides of my body jittering in discomfort.

“F-fucking hell, that must suck. You don’t happen to be one of those mindless, human-eating monsters from Hollywood right?” Isabelle nervously asked, scratching the back of her head in moderate anxiety.

“You should be relieved right now as I’m not hostile or mindless at all in my werewolf form; I’m the rather wholesome and fluffy type. Unfortunately, the first thing that comes to the entirety of society’s minds is a supernatural beast capable of killing someone within a fraction of a second. In a nutshell, mindless werewolves have reached stereotype status since the day they first existed,” I said, blushing harshly.

“Oh thank goodness, I was getting a little worried,” She sighed in relief.

“Anyways, when exactly did you learn about the horrible actions of that terrible trashbag?” I hesitantly asked.

“W-well, Johnson was my very older brother. He was nine years older than me, and from the start, I’ve always had an insatiable hate for him. He was such a f-f-fucking asshole to me; he always blamed shit on me when he had personal problems and had made mistakes that were his fault. I learned about his blow-darting business back in April, roughly a week before he was killed. How I discovered this information was when my younger brother, Jason, a-asked me if he could sp-peak to me in private. Just by s-saying that I was beyond sh-sh-shocked and t-terrified for him cannot merely describe the emotions I f-felt. Once Jason and I caught wind that he was dead, we immediately told our parents about how horrible Johnson was and what h--horrid actions he committed. I’m so much more than th---thankful that he’s no longer in my family, and I wish I told my parents abou-about it sooner,” Isabelle explained, her words faltering from how pissed she was inside.

“Holy shit… That screwball was considerably worse than I had originally thought,” I replied in shock.

Suddenly, as Isabelle opened her mouth to try and say something, my phone began to repeatedly ring and vibrate in my pocket. Wondering who could be calling me, I reached for the back pockets of my jean shorts and pulled out my phone.

Natalie was calling.

“My girlfriend’s calling me. I’m sorry,” I awkwardly said.

“No worries. Besides, I gotta get back to work. Today’s such a busy day and I might have to work overtime. Hope you have a wonderful day,” Isabelle replied as she got up and left.

“You too,” I said and waved goodbye.

I touched “call” on my phone, and put the speakerphone next to my ear.

“What’s up?” I greeted Natalie.

“How’re things?” Natalie asked.

“Relatively good. I met this one girl named Isabelle that works at Glensville Cafe who knows a shit ton about Johnson, since he was Isabelle’s troubled, older brother. Have you by any chance heard or know about this girl?” I questioned Natalie, my head tilted like a confused dog.

“Turns out I do. She’s Jason’s older sister. Her dad is a scientist working at a company called SubFuture Labs. The lab recently obtained one of those blow darts Johnson had made in the basement of Isabelle’s home. They’re currently busy working on other projects and waiting for the go-ahead from the police and FBI so they can investigate and study the liquid that’s inside the blowdarts, and figure out what’s inside them that makes people turn into moonlit beasts,” Natalie responded.

“Thank god someone is starting to look into those blowdarts. I told Isabelle that I was a werewolf, but not the part where I killed that horrible waste of space,” I stated.

“Ok, good. I don’t want Isabelle thinking you’re some mindless monster. Plus, it’s better off that you do not tell anyone about the accidental killing of Johnson. However, I originally called you to say I’m having a party at my house tonight, starting at 9:00 PM. Would you like to come? It would be a delight for you to come over; If your schedule is flexible enough, that is,” Natalie politely asked.

“Why would I say no to such an amazing event planned? I would love to go! Don’t worry, I have a boatload of free time on my paws, I just need to get permission from mom,” I eagerly responded.

“Love it! Let me know ASAP when you’re coming, alright?” Natalie stated excitedly.

“Sounds like a plan!” I happily replied.

“Wait a minute… I’ve never been to your house before I just realized. Where exactly do you live? S-s-sorry...” I suddenly asked, trying to be polite as humanly possible.

Natalie > “Oh, no worries! I live at 12 Tyrehouse Blvd, just outside of the town of Glensville. Good thing you asked. Until then, I’ll hopefully see you later tonight!”

Me > “See you soon! Bye.”

Natalie > “Bye-bye.”

The call has met an end.

A party tonight? Hosted by my highly-understanding girlfriend? Hell yes, sign me up to the moon and back! Unfortunately, I can’t stay outdoors where I’ll be caught in the moonlight (like the backyard), but I’ll be able to party indoors. I’m a very social person, don’t get me wrong. The only restriction I’m putting on myself is not going outside her house for, let’s say a bonfire in her backyard.

...It should be pretty obvious by now why. Oh well, at least she’ll have some other form of entertainment, perhaps a movie or socializing with friends? For now, we just have to…

Wait.

Waiting is the worst part of anything.

No worries, I have the patience.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

8:03 PM.

Tyrehouse Boulevard, Glensville.

“She said that she lives on 12 Tyrehouse Boulevard, so her house should be somewhere on this street…” I thought to myself, following the GPS on my phone to her house.

Tyrehouse Boulevard looked as if it was freshly repaved, like the path I discovered leading to Glensville close to a month ago. The street was wide enough to have two cars be on the road going opposite directions without striking one another, but not big enough to leave your car parked overnight. A double yellow line ran across the median of the street, as if two Tron bikes battled it out to see who would crash into their futuristic trail first. The sides of the streets were lined with small, young trees like cheerleaders with green pompoms lined up and ready to cheer their team on, their green leaves gently rustling in the zephyr. The rustling sounded similar to a plastic bag being gently played with, except more relaxing and muffled as if someone was wearing high-quality earphones to soften any noise.

Mom permitted me to go to Natalie’s party, and I’ve couldn’t have been any happier. Who doesn’t want to go to a party and hang out with friends? Well, maybe if you have homework or a tight schedule, you might not be able to attend, but it’s summer for me. I don’t have any homework (I don’t have summer school either) or a tight schedule; you can say I’m as free as a bird, because I freaking am! The weather forecast for tonight was clear skies, and a hypnotizingly beautiful full moon will be visible in the night sky like last night. I’ve taken some Advil in advance just in case I start transforming for any reason to lessen the god-awful pain.

You may be thinking right now, “But Jimmy, the party doesn’t start until 9:00! Why did you leave an hour before?!”

Calm down for a moment, take a breath or two. I came an hour before since I thought it would be nice to help Natalie and her parents set up before 9:00 ticks by on the kitchen clock. A little kindness doesn’t really hurt or have to be something to get offended over, does it?

Eventually, my phone’s GPS says “You have reached your destination. You may end the route now.” I look up from my phone and see a decent-looking, almost futuristic modern house with a rather spacious front lawn, perfect for playing frisbee. The path leading from the driveway was super modern and was lit up by these futuristic lights that resembled those bladeless fans made by a familiar vacuum company named Dyson. Not to mention her backyard had this giant tree with a damn treehouse in it! THAT looks like fun to relax and read a book in with some string lights! Alright, enough talking about how the house in question looks. Honestly, who gives a fuck about house design? Maybe if you’re an architect, but problem is, I’m a thousand times more into automotive stuff and Pokémon than how to make a house look appealing to the human eye.

Is this seriously Natalie’s house? Or did she give me the wrong address for some odd reason? If this is her house, then she’s one awesome girlfriend; she’s a heart thief for having a treehouse. I mean, come on. You must be one awesome person if you have one of your own, not to mention your parents would also be the coolest on the block.

Without a second thought, I walked on the pathway leading from the driveway to her front door, still in awe of that treehouse. I just can’t take my mind off of it! At the door, a Ring doorbell hung on the wall next to the smooth, black door with a rectangular window on the upper part of it. I pressed the ringer button, the doorbell letting out three chimes as a blue light continuously orbited the button like a blue marble around a burning star.

Then, I heard a familiar voice emit from the doorbell, saying “Hang in there JimJim! I’ll be right there!”

N-Natalie?!

Abruptly, the door opens, revealing a comely girl with long, blond hair and a slightly freckled face. Along with that, she was wearing black yoga pants, a whitish-grey shirt with a cute blepping Espeon on it, and black and white Sketchers. Yes, that was Natalie! And this was her house!

“Wai-... This is your house?! It’s so pleasing to look at, and that treehouse of yours has sold me that this place will be a pleasure to be in!” I exclaimed in shock.

“Yup! I knew you’d be in love with my place. But one question, why so early?” Natalie queried.

“I figured it'd be nice to help you set up before the party starts,” I shrugged, the feeling of lending a hand to Natalie feeling inevitable.

“Awwww, thanks! We could use a little help like setting up the bonfire and a few other party essentials.” Natalie said as she acknowledged my offer, a mile-wide smile showing.

Natalie allowed me inside, the door shutting behind me as my black Vans set foot on the carpeted entrance. I came out of the entrance hall, and my god, this place was the most modern-looking home I think I have ever seen or been in. The floors were mahogany-colored, smooth wooden flooring that reflected any light that came to it. The overhead lights were LED smart lights, able to change color and brightness, and can be controlled with the help of an Amazon Echo Show in the kitchen just by saying the name of a familiar AI assistant. To my left, was a relaxing living room with insanely plush reclining couches, complete with cupholders, power outlets, and even a damn wireless charging pad! At the end of the living room, was a grey stone fireplace, with a colossal 8K OLED flatscreen television hanging proudly atop. Ahead of me was a clean, sliding glass door presenting an outstanding patio and a spacious backyard. To the right of the living room, were the stairs leading upstairs, and a decent dining room. Over to my right, was a simplistic yet futuristic kitchen with a smart fridge and a smart oven. A hyper-smooth white kitchen countertop stood in the middle of said kitchen, a few classy chairs gathered and two hanging overhead lamps gently lighting the sparkly surface, the specks reflecting the light with a rainbow reflection. The Amazon Echo Show I mentioned earlier sat on the kitchen counter, ready to help whoever calls her name.

...I think I’m getting carried away here. Let’s just continue on with the story; I think you can imagine the rest of the house yourself. I’m not here to bore you.

As I looked around the place in awe, I suddenly saw a gorgeous woman notice me and give me a curious stare. And when I say gorgeous, I mean HOLY SHIT she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life; she had long, somewhat curly hair that was a light brown color, gently spiraling down to nearly her abdomen. Her eyes had black mascara that was as black as the tar pits of La Brea, she had bright red lipstick that sparkled slightly in the LED-lit room, and her eye color was a killer shade of dark blue, killer enough to make someone become deathly hypnotized by her stare alone. She wore dark grey pants that stopped at her knees along with a cherry-crimson tunic that fitted her somewhat on the dense side of the fitting spectrum. Lastly, she had shiny red high heels that reflected even the slightest shimmer of light. If beauty could kill, I would have been sucked into a black hole right past the event horizon. She was so breathtaking that if she tried to attend a beauty contest, she would make the judges and the entire contest green with envy. Plus she might get kicked out for supposedly being too good of a professional.

“Oh, why hello there handsome,” She spoke in a transfixing voice, a comforting smile on her face.

“H-hh---h-hi…” I nervously spoke, sweating profusely from how swiftly my heart was stolen by her looks.

“Mom, that’s my boyfriend, Jimmy. Jimmy, this is my mom, she’s a beauty role model. Oh, fun fact: she has her own signature cologne.” Natalie introduced me to her.

“She has her own what?!” I blurted out.

“You heard right! Plus, she’s a popular figure in the surrounding area, and in multiple other towns including a few cities.” She confirmed to me with a giggle.

God damn. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a mother that’s a (somewhat?) local superstar role model making at least a few hundred thousand a year, not to mention having her own merchandise! Must be crazy and a little nerve-racking.

To me, it’s beyond scary being popular or being the family member of a popular person for a few critical reasons. One, there’s going to be at least one crazy-ass fan who is out of control and does awful things to you, like stalking, making disturbing voicemails, etc. Two, following up on number one, there’s always going to be people out there who want to bring you down or end your career in various ways; maybe they’ll try to prank call the SWAT team on you, track you down and attempt to assassinate you in some way, send death threats to you, possibly even try to accuse you of some hideous crime you’ve never committed or defame your reputation in some way, and so on. All because they’re so jealous of your success and rise to fame. Three, you’ll eventually go out of fashion in some way or someone else can outshine you, resulting in you forcing to retire and hopelessly figuring out how to get back on top as your bank account slowly drains to zero.

I know I went on a tangent, but those were my feelings based on the countless stories I heard and videos I watched on the not-so-wonderful world of the internet.

“Ey, Florence. You ready to leave in a few minutes?” A heavily masculine voice from upstairs spoke.

“Yes, Henry. Also, come downstairs whenever you’re ready. The boyfriend that our daughter has been talking about just came a little while ago.” Florence replied.

“Oh no way! I wanna see him.” Henry said in a cheerful tone.

Down the stairs came Natalie’s dad, ready to go out with his lovely wife. Not long has passed and I saw him. If I got a dictionary and looked up the word “robust,” I would for certain find a picture of him there. His build was muscular, but not the crazy-die-hard bodybuilder type that you would see in cartoons; he looked as if he goes to the gym on a frequent basis. His height? At least six foot two or a little over. He wore what appeared to be black work boots, the kind that an auto mechanic would wear. His pants were sturdy jeans that were a faded blue color, as if they were worn a lot. A black leather jacket that shimmered like the slickness of oil dressed on his upper body, and underneath he wore a back shirt that had a blue Ford Mustang with two white lines running across the middle on it. Blonde, short hair was on his head, and he had a small blonde mustache as well. Natalie’s dad notices me as he set foot on the last step.

“That’s a nice-looking young man if I’ve ever seen one,” He complimented.

“Thanks,” I softly said with a wholesome smirk.

“He’s my dad. He’s a chill bouncer at the local bar,” Natalie informed me.

“I won’t be surprised if he encountered a few drunken bozos before, since, well, he works at a bar,” I shrugged.

Henry > “Eh, don’t be. I encounter troublemakers at least fifteen or so times a month. Alcohol and people don’t mix that very well at times. Plus, what’s your name?”

Me > “My name’s Jimmy.”

Henry > “Nice to meet you, kid.”

Henry proceeds to give me a greeting handshake, which I followed through with a grin. Our conversation, for whatever reason, then decided to halt and let silence take the room. The whisper-like hum of the smart fridge and the soft sounds of outdoor nature were the only things capable of breaking the awkward silence. Henry looks at me a little more closely than before, and Natalie’s face began showing signs of uneasiness as if she knew where this was going.

“Look, Jimmy. I can already tell that you’re going to be a marvelous dude. But I just want to say this before we leave. Make sure you’re good around my daughter, alright? I don’t want to have to get myself inv-”

“Daaaaaaaaad, please don’t… Can you not be all over him? We only just met recently. And you always wonder why my previous boyfriend Nicky left me.” Natalie begged her dad, looking beyond embarrassed.

“Please, Henry. We’ve been over this multiple times. I get the fact that you want him to be good towards Natalie, and I also get that you want nothing bad happening to our daughter, but the way you do it has already made one of her friends distance themselves away from us.” Florence informed her husband with a hint of irritation in her tone.

“F-florence, I can explain. Boys tend to get rowdy, and you shou-”

“*Sigh* Henry, I know how boys can get. Just because boys are known for being rambunctious, doesn’t mean all of them are like that all the time. You’re being over prote- you know what? I’m not having this conversation with you. We’re gonna be late for the party over in Cranecrest if this keeps up.” Florence interrupted her husband again, growing visibly and audibly annoyed.

Natalie just stood there, petrified with a train-wreck’s worth of humiliation forcefully weighing down on her body, not being able to do anything but watch in horrific shame. Meanwhile, I crossed my arms as I began losing patience, just wanting some god damn alone time with my girlfriend. My dad was somewhat protective of me at times when I met new people due to how naive single-digit-aged me was, but not this fucking helicopter-parenting level type of bullshit! At first, I thought that Henry was someone that was a pleasure to hang out with, but I can understand why Natalie looked so nervous during that silence.

Florence and Henry got their stuff together, and started heading out the door. Natalie’s mom let her know that if she needs anything, she’s only a call away despite the party going to be noisy enough to drown out the ringer of her phone. But as Henry began to head out the door, he stopped and looked at me one last time.

“Listen, Jimmy. Anything you do to my daughter I’ll do ba-”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND EVERYTHING THAT’S FREAKING HOLY CAN YOU CUT IT OUT?!” Florence finally snapped, grabbing her husband by the wrist and closing the door before Henry had a chance to say anything else.

I… I could not help but facepalm so hard a precipitous SMACK!!! violently reverberated throughout the high-tech household for a good second or two. My hand being positioned so precisely against my head was most likely the main factor in how loud that smack was. Natalie, now having a universe-worth of embarrassment crushing her to a red slush, suddenly put both of her hands on her face and started to slowly head towards hyperventilation, trying everything in her power to not have a mental breakdown as she breathed heavily in quick succession.

“Heyheyheyhey… Slow down. Take a deep breath.” I soothingly muttered to her, giving her a nice big hug like she always did for me.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SLOW DOWN?! MY FATHER’S A FUCKING EMBA-”

“Ssshhhhhh… I get how parents can be at times. I’m not going to leave you like your previous boyfriend did just because your father is built like a fucking attack helicopter constantly warning people to not do a fucky-wucky.” I responded, still trying to calm Natalie down as tears started to trickle from her eyes, leaving behind a trail of glistening saline on both of her soft cheeks.

“My dad’s already controlling enough for being all over me and my friends; even though he just tells them repeatedly to not do anything wrong to me and announces his line of “Whatever you do to my daughter I’ll do to you” type stuff, its still too much. I’m fearing that one day he’ll stalk us two and eventually find out that you’re a werewolf. *sniffle* Do have any idea how he’ll react?! I don’t want him doing something that will ruin our relationship for good over something that the average person would disagree with!” Natalie cried as she grabbed me by the shoulders and made unbroken eye contact.

“Look, don’t be so damn worried about it, as crazy as I sound. Being paranoid will only make things worse. Oh, remember that first day of summer and that whole shitshow of a confession? You later told me that we should be having a great day and not be dwelling on it. Same for this exact situation, only we need to get this place ready for that party you are going to have in around forty minutes. Don’t let it get all over you. Just relax for now, and let’s have nothing but a good time, alright?” I explained.

“*Sniff* I guess you’re right…” She sniffled as she clemently wiped away her tears and wiped her hands on her yoga pants.

We proceeded to get this house prepared for the party tonight, straightening and cleaning the seemingly spotless house. I volunteered to get some firewood from the shed that was next to the great tree and put it into the large patio firepit in the shape of a tepee, stuffing crumpled-up wads of newspaper in the tepee-like structure as a starting fuel. I also set up a few movies for tonight on that impressive yet colossal TV, and picked my summer playlist on the Amazon Alexa to play music. Meanwhile, Natalie takes a quick run to the local Glenmart™ to get some snacks and drinks, and the usual necessities for smores. Long explanation short, we prepared for the anticipated party that starts at 9:00 PM.

Straightforward and (hopefully) smooth sailing from here.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Wednesday, July 15th, 2020, 9:04 PM.

Natalie’s House, Glensville, New York.

This is it.

The party I’ve been so desperately waiting for the past eight hours.

At least the wait was so worth it.

The sun’s sunken down into the horizon, and the silvery-bright moon has started rising into the star-sprinkled night sky. Natalie and I have gotten the house squared away and set up, now ready and raring for the anticipated moonlit party.

It was barely even a few minutes since the clock struck 9:00 PM, and people have started coming to the event, many of them friends that are more like acquaintances and a few of them close friends since elementary school.

And then came along a friend of mine that I’ve been friends with since kindergarten.

“So, who’s this ‘friend’ you’re speaking about?” You might've asked, probably or probably not.

His name, is Brian. If my memory serves correct, he’s the first actual friend I’ve made in my life. Also worth mentioning, he’s no ordinary friend; he’s my bestest of best friends, and I can clearly remember a transport trailer’s worth of wondrous memories of us hanging out, having fun, you can freaking name it.

Now a bit about him; he’s roughly three inches shorter, and a little under a week younger. The hair on his noggin was medium in length and curly brown, his eye color a stunning hazel, and he has some freckles on those cheeks of his. He wears a handsome pair of glasses, and at this moment was wearing grey shorts, checkerboard Vans, white socks with a black stripe wrapping around the top, and a shirt of a sun that screamed 80’s retrowave vibes as he’s a huge fan of retro stuff (like old movies, vaporwave music, retrowave related stuff, the list seemingly goes on forever), not to mention he’s an absolute big-time computer nerd (no offense intended). I should also mention he was one of my friends that introduced me to Natalie a couple of months back.

Alright, I bet you got to know him. If you haven’t, I sincerely apologize, as I just want to cut to the chase and not bore anyone else with “SoMe MoRe BoRiNg BaCkStOrY TiMe” as I usually do.

*Cue my interaction with good ol’ Brian*

“Eeyyy! It’s the man himself, Brian!” I exclaimed, dapping him up with a side-five and a fist bump.

“Oh, right you are Jims! Here I am!” He replies, a ten-mile-wide smile on his freckled face.

Me > “So, how’s life treating you?”

Brian > “Not too bad, but I could use some more excitement instead of those dog days. How about you?”

Me > “Alright, good to hear. I’m doing relatively well. I’m in the mood for some partying, and you?”

Brian > “On the same boat as you, Jimster!”

Me > “Now that’s what I wanna hear!”

We high five and leave our hands glued together while saying in unison, “Let’s do this!”

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

July 15th, 2020, 11:07 PM.

Yup, it’s party time, that's for certain.

Wanna know how awesome the party’s coming along?

Allow me to set the current festive scene; dozens upon dozens of teenagers, all different ages, sizes, and personalities were all gathered here, socializing and hanging out while having a blast and the time of their lives. The current song that filled the surrounding atmosphere was “Werewolves Of London” by Warren Zevon (which was no surprise since there’s a full moon out), which would make standing in the moonlight such a surreal and unforgettable feeling. The soothing crackling of a brightly burning bonfire was located on the backyard patio, with teenagers gathered around roasting marshmallows on sticks they found in the backyard or ones provided. Down in the basement, there was a room full of different games to keep you busy, as teenagers hung out to play on the air hockey table, ping pong table, pinball machine, N64, and other games provided while exchanging conversation, talking about things like what they want to see in the next videogame title and how their summer’s been coming along. In the living room, a movie called The Fast And The Furious plays on the large, 4K OLED television screen as teenagers sat on the nearby plush couches, mercilessly and mindlessly stuffing their faces with unholy amounts of salty, buttered popcorn.

Where was I? In the basement. Doing what? Playing ping pong with my friends and having a blast while doing so. The person I was currently pinging and ponging with was my friend Brian. As the ball went back and forth, to and fro on the table, making a plasticy “tink” sound every time it made contact with our paddles and the table, we were talking about a certain comic that we both just so happen to be reading. Remember that retro 90’s novelty “Full Moon Fever” that I bought earlier today? Before the anticipated party started, I left off at the part where our teenage hero (whose name turns out to be Tarben) gets caught in the moonlight and becomes a werewolf for the first time, a morbidly fascinating transformation sequence unfolding before the reader’s very eyes. Fast forward a few moments after the ludicrously gut-wrenching transition from human to muscular biped canine ends, and his mom discovers him in his werewolf form. Tarben tries his best to calm his mother down, doing everything in his power to let her know that the big hairy moonlit beast was in fact her son, somehow succeeding.

“I’m in LOVE with the new comic series I’m reading; it really kept me pinned to my seat’s edge with my heart pounding. I left off at the part where Tarben’s mother finds out that her son became a werewolf,” I state to Brian.

Brian replies, “I do agree, It’s an amazin’ series. The person who wrote the storyline for Full Moon Fever, Grey S. Thompson, really knows how to make stories that’ll make you want to read more and find out what happens next, with you on the very edge of your seat. He’s also the person who wrote a wondrous, action-packed, and suspenseful book called ‘The Curse Of The Verminous Kitsune’ which was first released back in 1989, not to mention it’s his best-performin’ piece of literature to date. In a nutshell, it’s about a teenage boy named James gettin’ cursed by the spirit of a corrupt kitsune, and he has three months to try and break the curse or else his soul will be permanently absorbed by the kitsune’s spirit, and he’ll become a multiple-tailed fox forever, not able to control his body or his thoughts. He and his girlfriend Maria try to find clues on how to break the curse, and near the end of the story is where things get extremely intense. Words cannot merely DESCRIBE how many emotions I felt from readin’ that story and how much I recommend you read that story!!!”

Me > “Oh wow, that sounds like an interesting read! Is it still being sold? If so, what bookstores have it if not what libraries have this book?”

Brian > “The book is still bein’ sold; you can probably find it at the Barnes And Noble down in Cranecrest, or you can find it on Amazon or Apple Books. If you don’t feel like payin’ any money for it, I know an old copy or two of the book exists at the Glensville Public Library.”

Me > “Well that’s good to hear. I might buy it when I either finish or take a break from the comic I’m reading. For now, I’ll stick to reading the wild adventures of Tarben the werewolf.”

“Speakin’ of werewolves, have you heard about that serial blow-darter Johnson Suntduffin? He was goin’ around different towns, terrorizin’ people and turnin’ them into werewolves. I mean it was ALL OVER the fuggin’ news.” Brian suddenly asked me.

“Without a doubt I do,” I responded.

“Have you, by any chance, been blow-darted by him? If so, did you ever become a werewolf?” He continued out of curiosity.

Yup, you read (or heard) that right; None of my friends, not even one of my closest friends, Brian, knew that I was blow-darted and became a werewolf with glowing yellow spots. Back then, I was so terror-stricken that if I were to be open about it let alone have anyone know about it, everybody would soon stereotype me as a horrid monster constantly out for leather, and the government would get involved, take me away, and lock me up in some top-secret underground laboratory three hundred miles away, just to cut open my belly and see what my organs look like without my consent. Even the thought of telling someone was enough to make me overly nervous and on the verge of a panic attack. The only friends that know about this sensitive information are my girlfriend Natalie and my friend Jason. Even though there’s dozens of other people out there who are now werewolves because of Johnson, I didn’t want to risk having my door knocked down by the FBI, all because the majority of people can’t help but see and stereotype lycanthropes as being heartless mauling machines.

Right now, I didn’t know if it was a good idea or not to say that I was blow-darted by Johnson. I merely attempted to say something, having an internal warzone on whether or not I should inform him this (seemingly sensitive?) information, my words faltering and crumbling apart.

“Well… Um… I-”

Before I could even properly start my sentence, a monstrous teen that was around four or five inches taller than me without warning grabbed me by the shirt and brutally pinned me against the rough basement walls, smiling a menacing grin while doing so. My back hit the wall so forcefully it actually hurt, me harshly groaning in pain while saying “Dammit!”

The teen in question was overweight, robust, and much bigger than me, making him look as if he could effortlessly knock a pro-wrestler out clean with a flick of his pinky. He had nasty short greasy black hair that resembled crude oil and brown eyes the color of the sludgiest mud. He wore jeans that were badly torn-up, a crusty black hoody, and Jordans that were scuffed to beyond hell and back. Plus, he reeked of used vape juice and someone who worked an immense five hours at the gym not bothering to wash off. Gross!

“So kid, are you REALLY a werewolf? Tell me in full honesty, you weak little squirt.” He smugly asked me right in my face, with me starting to nervously sweat.

“Bro, can you like... not?! We were in the middle of a fuggin’ game you asshole!” Brian shouted at him and attempted to pry him off me, but was harshly shoved to the side, hitting the ping pong table a second later.

Did he… just touch my best friend like that? Ok, now my blood is beginning to boil.

“Stay out of it, you nerd-ass punk! Would you rather let me have a nice little talk with my bud Mr. Redhead or have your worthless ass end up in a wheelchair?” The robust teen snapped, still pinning me to the wall while pointing directly at Brian with a menacing stare.

Suddenly, every single soul in the room had eyes on me, Brian, and this overweight hooligan who really thought he was the toughest thing since the discovery of tungsten.

“I’d rather end up in the hospital than let a fool like you pick on my friend!” Brian bravely shot back, the will to protect his best friend unbreakable and shatterproof.

“ISN’T THAT SO?!” He violently snapped back, cracking his knuckles in the most obnoxious way possible in an attempt to intimidate Brian.

Without warning, he abruptly made a beeline towards Brian, most likely to break his spine a hundred different ways. Every teen in the room within the drop of a hat stopped what they were doing, and did everything in their power to prevent him from laying a hand on Brian, some of them begging the giant dude to cut it out. Although a gorilla-sized teen was about to throw hands at my best friend, he miraculously maintained every bit of his bravery, getting ready to show that son of a bitch who’s boss. I, however, took this opportunity to make a mad dash from the basement to someplace safe from this absolute nuisance. For fuck’s sake all I ever wanted was to have a great time here, not to be pushed around by some walking garbage bag! I could just retreat back home, but I didn’t want to leave the party and feel guilty while doing so (hey, my girlfriend invited me to her party so I’m staying until this party is over for the night).

Oh god, I’m thankful that I didn’t stay in the basement for too long, it's starting to get out of hand! Everybody else except for the people in the basement was either oblivious to the mayhem that would soon ensue or just didn’t give a shit. Or maybe it’s best for them to not get involved.

Shit was now starting to hit the fan down in the basement as all hell broke loose, lots of shouting and screaming beginning to become audible. Nervous teenage me ran upstairs as fast as my legs allowed me to, and quickly tried to find some sort of room to hide in, so I could wait until this shitshow dies down. Yes, I sound like a coward, but I needed to hide just in case that fat smelly bastard wanted to seek me out and pressure me into confessing that I was, indeed, a werewolf. Plus, let’s be honest, he’s more resilient and many times stronger than I am. The requirements for such a room that I considered protective will include the following: A room with a sturdy door, great hiding spots (like a closet), and a lock on the door.

The first room I came across was the bathroom. Perfect, the door has a lock on it and looks sturdy enough so that idiot won’t be able to rip it open. Within a heartbeat I rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Never in my life have I locked a door so fucking expeditiously. I slowly put my back to the door, my heart still in overdrive pumping blood at hypersonic speeds with my thoughts speeding a mile a second, and sluggishly slid down towards the floor onto my butt. I curled up into a ball, hugging my legs with my head tucked in and not bothering to turn the bathroom light on. Everything happened so damn quick that I desperately needed a moment to myself. My head was spinning with questions upon questions like “What the actual fuck just happened and why?” “Is Brian currently ok? Let alone is he going to be ok?” “Who was that nasty, overweight teenager? And why did he look and feel so familiar?” so much so that my head started to feel afflicted.

Abruptly, I began feeling weird and out of touch with reality. My heart sunk as I began to recognize that creeping feeling. That feeling is the same feeling I get when I am under the moonlight, hence it was a warning sign of what will happen shortly.

Oh shit…

It’s that mysterious feeling!

I looked up, and saw the full moon, hence the ceiling of the bathroom was just one big sunroof. Words cannot describe the amount of fear that hit me; even saying that my soul left my body wasn’t enough. I must get out of here and find a different room before I start transforming! Oh God, I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of everyone if someone finds me as my lycanthrope self!

I frantically got up and tried unlocking the door, my hands being too shaky to get onto the lock. Despite me fumbling with the lock like someone having a seizure, I managed to unlock the door. I twisted the doorknob and swiftly opened the door as fast as I could, but the damn doorknob fell off! Of course it had to, because why the fuck would it not?!

“W-w-w-w-wwwhat the fuck?!” I swore out in shock, the doorknob still in my hand.

How the hell am I supposed to get out now?!

Well…

Fuck.

Guess I have no choice but to live with the consequences of my mindless actions. I should’ve checked the room beforehand. How stupid of me.

Escape has been rendered futile.

The moonlight mercilessly cast down into the bathroom, the room gently being illuminated with a silvery, almost pale baby blue glow, dimly revealing my hands being covered in a wave of black fur. My palms and the pads of my digits swelled up like blisters, except not filling up with fluid, but rather squishy, plump flesh. Seconds pass, and the skin on the forming paw pads creepily darkened into a carbon-black color, as if the skin withered away in record time. Along with that, my fingernails sharpened and became longer, soon gaining the ability to become retractable. Then the skeletal structure abruptly began altering beyond recognition, bones cracking and distorting, with joints fusing together and becoming mechanically reprogramed. My digits shrunk down, the opposability of them suffering atrophy, my thumb soon shrinking down to nothing except for a dewclaw.

As the transformation soon finished within my hands, the doorknob tumbled out of them and all the way to the floor, making an abrupt and metallic THUNK as it crash-landed. That’s right; I can no longer hold objects. My hands are now the front paws of a were-Umbreon. Not good at doing anything except defending myself and helping me stand on all fours. On the bright side, the pain wasn’t as great as it usually is, but it’s still really uncomfortable. I’m going to take a quick moment and thank the inventor of painkillers. Bless their soul.

But it doesn’t end there; my entire body is still due for the moonlit transformation.

The moonlight continued to do its dark magic on me, spreading up my arms and towards my shoulders, painfully prickling my skin as fur, dark as the night itself, sprouted out from underneath. Meanwhile, a shot of pain kicked me square in the ass, my tailbone beginning to elongate and move about. Knowing what was happening, I simply slid my shorts off, leaving my grey boxers on since it was rather elastic. New nerves flared to life, new tendons formed, and new muscles took shape within my growing appendage. An abundance of new bones materialized from deep in my tail's flesh, soon arranging into a complete skeletal structure that was one with my spine.

My soon-to-be tail navigated its way to the right leg of my boxers, wagging about and sneaking out into visible sight. As per usual, the yellow stripe that adorned my bushy vulpine-like tail began to gently radiate a soft yellow glow, much like the color of those sodium-vapor street lights you would usually see. The streetlight-like glow gently reflected off of the white door, the white marbled sink cabinets, and the polished white tiled floor, while also making the bathroom slightly less dark. Yes, I will soon identify as a night light on four legs pretty soon.

Not meaning to sound pessimistic, but now’s nowhere near the time for silly puns. The transformation was relatively faster than normal, most likely because at the start of the transformation I was all full of adrenaline, unlike the previous transformations in which I didn’t have as much adrenaline. The black fur venturing up my arms from before crept onto my shoulders, a yellow ring appearing and emitting more soft yellow light. With the whole world seemingly beginning to grow, more fur encroached my chest, back, sides, and belly. The room to me felt as if someone bumped up the heater setting by a few dozen degrees, the fur prickling at my crotch like a cactus, engulfing my thighs and butt, and flowing down my legs like gooey, hot tar.

Things are getting pretty painful, I know, but on the bright side the Advil I took earlier is diminishing some of it. At the end of the day, Advil wasn’t designed or engineered to numb the level of pain that lycanthropes experience when caught in the moonlight, so the afflictions I’m feeling are still present enough to make me want to groan and whimper. I couldn’t help but lay down on the floor out of natural instinct, even though I knew that would do nothing to solve or lessen my pain problem. Another yellow ring, just like the ones on my shoulders, appeared on both of my hips, yet again glowing a soft yellow radiance, the glowing halo being barely visible through the fabric of my boxers. By how small I was getting, my boxers were becoming noticeably loose on me.

Not long has passed and the midnight-black fur reaches my feet, soon coating them. The pads of my feet and toes puff up and blackened, soon shaping into paw pads. Just like with what happened with my hands, the bones in my feet cracked and popped, fused, relocated, all that painful jazz. My toenails sharpened into razor-blade-sharp claws, while my big toes slowly disappeared into thin air as my other toes reshaped into vulpine-like digits. My toenails, now sharp arc-shaped claws, sheathed into my digits.

Guess what happens next. I’ll give you a few seconds.

…

DING DING DING!

Correct. My legs will now commence to morphing into rear haunches.

My thighs bulged and distorted, abnormally swelling up as the flesh within tore and reconstructed, bubbling and boiling about. The heels of my feet migrated upwards, meeting and fusing with my knee joint, crushing my tibias into thin air as my paw-feet elongated forwards. Bones split in half and readjusted, warping the skeletal structure of my legs beyond human recognition. All of this gruesome business mechanically reprogramed my legs (or rear hocks now) to become more suited for quadruped functionality.

At the same time, my head started to feel as if I headbanged to death metal for ten minutes straight, my ears becoming longer and moving towards the top of my head. The Advil was doing its best at what it was made for, don’t get me wrong; as I’ve stated before it wasn’t medicinally designed for these levels of affliction. The muffled sounds of Natalie’s party soon became drowned in a sea of silence.

The awful silence was soon broken, my hearing casually coming back to me as my ears, now long and black Umbreon ears with a yellow stripe wrapping around the middle of them, finished up their changes. Once again, like every other yellow spot on my body, they began to emit a lambent glow much like yellow glow sticks in a sense.

The skin on my nose faded to black and shrunk down, obtaining a somewhat leathery texture to it and becoming cold and moist. More black, vulpine fur started sprouting from my skin, starting at my nose and spreading outwards. My body soon stopped shrinking, leaving me the size of a red fox and rendering my clothes too small. Many black whiskers pushed their way out from my upper lip and into plain sight.

My body was now entirely covered with dark, black fur that dimly sheened in the moonlight. One more yellow ring appeared on my forehead, gently glowing an almost comforting luminescence. My eye color became drowned out by a blood-red color, and my pupils became long, vulpine slits. This was then followed by my eyes glowing an evil red glow.

More somewhat-diminished pain followed suit within my mouth, teeth sharpening and becoming more suitable for tearing up and eating meat with ease. Not only that, my tongue starts to flatten, becoming longer and flimsier.

And this is the moment you and I have been dreading for; the muzzle.

The damn, muzzle.

Pressure starts to accumulate on my face, mainly around my nose and mouth, pushing forwards into a vulpine-like snout. As usual, it was quite painful, thankfully not like last time but still pretty painful. I continued to lay down on the floor, buried under my now ginormous clothes as I breathed heavily. I couldn’t help but cover my face from the pain, my eyes watering. From the pain and pressure, a bad headache formed within my noggin. Beautiful. Not.

With my muzzle still growing, my arms migrated towards the front of me, my shoulders disappearing into my body as my chest arched forward into a gentle little hump. My elbows moved up my arms, shortening the length of my front legs. The hair on my head soon melted away, seemingly dissolving into my now furry scalp. Lastly, pressure began to accumulate in my spine, attempting to change into a quadruped position. I had no choice but to brace myself for one last shot of pain.

The changes soon began to slow down to a halt. I’m now a stupid were-Umbreon yet again, and now that stupid fatass from earlier is going to know that I’m a werewolf.

Hold on a second…

My spine feels a little off; there’s still pressure.

Has it not changed?

Not thinking it was anything serious, I crawled out from my clothes, and did a nice, big quadruped stretch. As I stretched, my rump was in the air, my tail pointed towards the front of me, my ears pointed backward, and my claws unsheathed from my paws.

Out of nowhere, my spine finally cracked into a quadruped position, causing me to yell out loudly in pain “FUCK!!!” but as usual it came out as “UMBREON!!!” Thankfully, however, it felt rather cool and relieving moments later.

Strange… my spine would usually crack into a quadruped position on its own. Maybe it’s because of the Advil? You know what, nothing too out of the ordinary happened so I guess that’s alright.

Welp, here we are; stuck in yet another fucking predicament ‘cus why not. Out of embarrassed hopelessness, I packed my clothes and shoes into my pants, and looked around for some way to escape the moonlit bathroom, knowing full well that I’m trapped here until someone decides to use this bathroom. I didn’t even put any effort into finding a way out, resorting to just laying down on my belly with my chin on the floor out of defeat, letting out a deep sigh.

So… now what? I guess I’ll just have to wait and hope that the fat idiot from earlier doesn’t find me like this.

While we wait, I forgot to mention this way earlier in this so-called “story” I’m telling. You know about me being a (were)Pokémon and how it seems kinda strange that I’m a Pokémon IRL? Well actually, I don’t know what universe or world you’re reading the story of my not-so-normal life from, but in the world that I live in alongside other people, Pokémon do exist alongside humans and your average normal animals, but they’re much, much rarer and harder to come by. Yes, I know that may sound kind of strange, but that’s just how it is for us.

Out of nowhere my ears perked up to the sound of someone walking upstairs. The sound of footsteps against the slightly creaky wood floor slowly became more and more audible, as if it was approaching the bathroom.

“Oh no, who could it be?” I thought anxiously, my heart starting to pound in fear as I hid my clothes somewhere safe so nobody suspected a thing.

Then came the dreaded sound of someone opening the bathroom door; the horrifying twisting of the knob, the agonizing opening of the door itself.

It was no other than that fat fuck from earlier. I’m so screwed!!!

No time was needed for him to notice me, the revolting smells that reeked from him bitchsmacking my sinuses head-on. I was trying my hardest to not gag excessively as he looked down at me with a chill-inducing grin. Doing everything I could to force myself not to use my now boosted sinuses, I backed up against the wall away from him and began going into defense mode. My spots glowed much brighter than before, my dangerous claws became unsheathed from my paws, my body’s stance was low and close to the floor, and I growled loudly at him while repeatedly saying “STAY BACK…” under my breath. Obviously, it came out as Pokémon language like before.

“Ooooh, soooo menacing. You’ll make a perfect little pet to guard my house!” He mocked at me and menacingly walked over towards me.

Abruptly, all the bravery within me vanished when I realized just how big he really was compared to me, now that I’m smaller than my human form. As a result, my tail became tucked between my hind legs, my spots dimmed down, my claws sheathed back into my furry paws, my ears flopped down, and my eyes dilated as my body scrunched up in fear. An attempt was made to scurry away before he grabbed me, but that was short-lived before my paws lost contact with the ground as I was picked up.

Foolishly I attempted to show resistance towards him, flailing around and trying to get out from his grip. He simply giggled and kept holding onto me as he started to head out of the bathroom. I even tried to tell him to leave me alone, but I’m guessing you can figure out how well that went. Starting to have a panic attack, I kept struggling, flailing around, trying to push myself away from him, and trying to wriggle free while whining and whimpering uncontrollably from anxiety.

Suddenly, he smugly spoke “Quit struggling you bitch.” and gave my body a super tight squeeze, making me squeal out in pain.

He better not have broken one or more of my ribs; that fucking hurt you asshole!

Since I don’t know this fuckwit’s name, I’ll call him Fat Bastard. I know, it’s not nice to call people names, but this idiot definitely deserves to be called one based on how he treated me and my BFF. Also, I have no intent to offend fat people, so I’m sorry if I offended anyone.

Eventually, he arrived at where the movie I mentioned earlier was playing, nonchalantly saying to the people there “Hey guys look at this new Pokémon I caught.”

Of course, when people see a Pokémon, people become all awed-out and amazed, because who isn’t astonished by those magical creatures and what they can do? There were some reactions like:

“Woah, no way!”

“Is that an Umbreon?”

“I have a pet Umbreon at home!”

“Nice catch, man.”

“That’s cool, but I have three shiny Umbreon cards in my collection!”

I’m obviously very nervous and embarrassed, my pupils dilated, my ears flopped, and my tail tucked between my rear haunches. Well, at least they don’t know that I’m a werewolf yet so there’s that.

Among the group of movie watchers was one of my closest friends, Vincenzo. He’s a little under a year older than me, his birthday being in mid-June. He’s been a close friend to me and Brian since kindergarten, and did his best to make me feel protected from being picked on by other playground browbeaters at school, knowing how much I’ve been bullied due to how naive I was. He’s roughly six feet tall, has solid green eyes, a slightly muscly form, and short black hair. Not to mention, he has a rich German accent when he speaks.

“Ey, Budzo, I think you should put the little guy down as he looks very nervous, and I don’t know what he could do next,” Vincenzo spoke to Fat Bastard as if to defend me, not knowing I was the Umbreon.

“Nah, I don’t think so. This little punky is coming home with me tonight.” Fat Bastard remorselessly replied with a stupid grin on that dirty face of his.

“Bro, you don’t know that Umbreon very well; it could have some sort of disease or another. You might even be stealing someone’s pet. Heck, that thing could quite possibly be a werewolf! Like, have you seen the news?” Vincenzo attempted to reason with Fat Bastard.

“Oh don’t be a wimp, Vincenzo. Lighten up a bit. He’s perfectly fine right in my arms!” Fat Bastard laughed jokingly.

Likewise, any amount of right-minded rhyme or reason from Vincenzo just collided with ears as deaf and as ignorant as a brick wall. What’s the motherfucking point with trying to infuse any reasonings towards someone who just wants to watch the world explode into flames and burn into a lifeless pile of ash? You’ll just be wasting your time and energy just doing nothing but being ignored and laughed at by some bitch who thinks their ideals are superior to anybody else’s. There is nothing of use in situations like these. Best you can do is let them learn the hard way, which most definitely will never happen.

Vincenzo and Fat Bastard continued to chatter away, with some of the other movie watchers joining Vincenzo’s side and attempting to stick up for me, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, whilst Fat Bastard was distracted, without warning, I flailed around as hard as I could to get out from his grasp, barely managing to succeed. Next thing I did was bolt to the bathroom to get my stuff and get the hell out of here. As expected, Fat Bastard started to hunt me down like a cruise missile with no intent on stopping.

I reached the bathroom and got to my stuff. Then I attempted to get out, but then Fat Bastard got to me. As he tried to pick me up, he suddenly lost grip of me, and without thinking straight whilst in a panic, I slammed the bathroom door closed, locking both of us in. Defense mode was activated once again, me growling loudly with my sharp teeth showing and my razor blades for claws unsheathed. Fat Bastard’s facial expression went from a shit-eating grin to a pissed-off pout whose theme song would be Alice Cooper’s “No More Mr. Nice Guy.”

“Oh, you wanna play it that way you son of a bitch? As I stated before you stupid glow stick of a vixen, YOU’RE. COMING HOME. WITH. ME!!!” He angrily shot at me.

“UMBREON!! UMBRE!! (THEN FUCKING COME AND GET ME, YOU COWARD!!)” I loudly barked back.

He charged at me, ready to strangle me and put me in my place, but I charged back with my bravery as solid as high carbon steel. My vision slowly turned red, but not red enough to where it was blinding and I couldn’t think straight. If I could shake out poisonous sweat as an actual Umbreon can, that would make this situation much easier to deal with, but I have no idea how to use that move nor any other move.

He kicked me, knocking me off balance and rolling into the door. Fat Bastard then grabbed me by my floofy tail, and I donkey kicked him in the face as hard as teenage were-Umbreon me could perform, scratching his face a little. Next thing Mr. Big Boy did next was again grab me and try to put me in my place. Before he tried to hurt me in any way, I nipped at his nuts, causing him to squeal out in pain like a wimpy little pussy.

“THAT’S FUCKING IT! YOU PLAY DIRTY, I’LL PLAY DIRTY *B A C K ! ! !*” Fat Bastard snapped like never before.

Fat Bastard swiftly grabbed me by the neck and attempted to strangulate me. Remember when all my bravery left my body when he found me? It was like that, but instead, someone used the fill tool and filled my entire body with fear as my soul promptly left my body. I had no choice but to try and make him stop choking me by tightly gripping his wrists with my claws, but I was starting to get weak as his strangulation sapped me of my precious energy.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, but this time it was a girl that I was familiar with.

Natalie?!

Fat Bastard and I stopped fighting immediately, Fat Bastard attempting to look innocent by pulling a fake yet childish smile, a little blood trickling from a small scratch wound I inflicted from kicking him. Natalie couldn’t believe her eyes; not only was her boyfriend in his werewolf form, but now someone was seriously hurting him!

“Holy shit, Jimmy?! Oh my god- …what do you think you’re doing to my boyfriend you fatso?!” Natalie mindlessly blurted out, pointing a finger right at Fat Bastard.

Out of the corner of my blood-red eyes, I saw Fat Bastard’s eyes light up, as he finally got an answer to the question he had been trying to pressure me to confess.

“You were a werewolf all along? I knew it. All you had to do was tell me that punk, and none of this would have happened.” Fat Bastard smugly yet sinisterly said to me, grinning an evil grin as if he’d won an unfair game.

My heart sank so hard I thought it went all the way down to the bottom of my hind legs. That was the last thing I wanted him to figure out!!! Now I have to worry endlessly about everybody soon knowing my darkest secret, and then stereotype me far from context! Yeah, most people may know about Johnson and those people who became werewolves because of him, but I’d rather people not see me as a freak of nature!

“Put him down now or else I will make you! You can’t just strangle a poor animal like that!” Natalie cried out, tearing up from the sight of me getting hurt.

“Natalie is girlfriends with a werewolf!” Fat Bastard teased, holding me further away from Natalie.

Out of pure exasperation, she rushed towards Fat Bastard and fought with him in order to set me free, despite the fact that he had the ability to easily snap her neck if he ever wished. Of course, Fat Bastard had to tease and deride at Natalie more than ever necessary, which really ticked me the fuck off. It’s one thing if someone makes fun, bullies, and threatens me, but try to do that towards my friends and family? Oh, best believe me, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you regret doing that.

As Natalie and Fat Bastard were distracted, I grabbed my stuffed pants with my muzzle, and just booked it without a second thought. I looked behind me one last time, and saw Natalie trying to stop that monster of a teen from exiting the bathroom and getting to me to do who knows what. I began searching around the house frantically for someone opening a door so I can escape, doing my best to not attract unwanted attention.

Without warning, Natalie lets out an audible scream, which was then followed by the sound of Fat Bastard getting bitchsmacked across the face HARD alongside a cry of pain from that worthless trashbag on legs. I then heard her yell at Fat Bastard while almost sobbing, “DON’T YOU EVER TOUCH ME LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN YOU FUCKING PERVERT!!! GET OUT OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE ON YOU!!”

DID HE JUST FUCKING TOUCH MY BELOVED GIRLFRIEND IN A DISGUSTING WAY?!

Wow, you REALLY fucking are something, stupid fat bitch.

Congratulations, Fat Bastard, you’ve won the award for the most degenerate person I’ve ever met in person. Get a life, you bozo.

But now’s not the time for revenge, as not only am I attracting slightly too much attention, but also he tried to possibly kill me before, and I’m fearing for my life and safety what he’ll do next.

Just as I was about to go full-panic air-raid mode, someone was opening the sliding door to the backyard, and I took that opportunity to make my escape. I sprinted out of the house with my stuffed pants still in my muzzle, and focused on nothing but making it back to the safety of my house, running as fast as my quadruped self could whilst not daring to look back for even a millisecond.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

July 15th, 2020, 11:25 PM.

Just Outside Glensville, New York.

Not too long passes, and I manage to get onto the path leading to Pleasantdale, still running pretty fast and not looking back once. My mind was still rampant with thoughts screaming to me to get the hell back home and that Fat Bastard was on my tail (no pun intended; plus this is nowhere near the time for any puns). My asthma surprisingly hasn’t caught up with me yet, but by the time I get home, I’m going to be a panic-stricken, huffing and puffing wreck (yes I know I forgot to mention I had asthma early in the story, that’s my bad. Look, I tend to forget things so cut me some slack).

Whilst I was galloping on the path, I saw a small shortcut that would shave off maybe a few seconds and throw off Fat Bastard if he was still following me. I know that sounds utterly ridiculous, but please for the love of god keep in mind I’m in a clusterfuck of overwhelming stress and anxiety. The little shortcut was just an ordinary grey dirt path, nothing too special. Out of mindlessness, I took that path out of desperation.

But, out of nowhere, the solidness of the ground about three-fourths of the way back onto the original paved path was so illusory that it fooled me, and I went face-first into some sludgy, grey clay. Then I began to sink down almost immediately.

With a faceful of mushy, mud-like clay, I tried to collect my thoughts and figure out what was happening and what I must do. My mind was so clogged with one-track-minded thoughts of getting back home to safety that it was impossible to think straight.

The instant I figured out that I was sinking in either very deep mud or quicksand, I froze in fear with my heart skipping a few beats. Then the mindless, panic-ridden flailing and attempts to get to solid ground began. I dropped my stuff so I could increase my chances of getting out of this patch of grey clay. Foolishly I tried everything in my power to power my way to safety, using up lots of my energy and starting to grow tired from how hard I was flailing.

“Everything just happened extremely fast,” you say.

Well no shit it did!

First off, some fatty just tried to force me into confessing that I’m a werewolf. Next, I tried to hide from him and ended up turning into a werewolf, Fat Bastard somehow finding me. He then showed me off to other people, and then once I got to the bathroom to get my stuff, me and Fat Bastard fought it out for only a short moment until Natalie showed up and gave Fat Bastard a hint that I was a werewolf. Then Natalie and Fat Bastard got into a fight and my girlfriend was wrongfully touched by that trashbag. And last but not least I’m now sinking in quicksand.

I’m sorry that I sound very pessimistic, but these past few months have really rubbed me in such a bad way I now give off an entirely different energy. I was blow-darted, then I accidentally killed someone, had awful nightmares about it maybe at least once a week, and now this fiasco of a party had to unfold. Maybe I should’ve stayed home.

It seemed that no matter what I did, I kept sinking deeper and deeper. To my horror, it felt as if there wasn’t really much I could do except flail around hoping I can somehow “swim” my way to solid ground. Nervous-wreck-air-raid-mode me foolishly forgot to take into account that flailing around while in deep mud or quicksand will only make you sink deeper, since you’re agitating the thick liquid-like patch and letting gravity do the work of pulling you under.

The mud sluggishly and squeamishly jiggled and danced about, making nasty smearing and squishing noises as I struggled to keep myself above the pit of clay. The silver moonlight gently shined down onto the sticky pit through the small opening of the forest’s roof. I then attempted to raise my front paws up and push with my hind legs, but that didn’t do jack shit but sink me even further, my haunches slowly spreading deeper into the thick, gelatinous mud. Well fuck.

My panicking soon got the best of me, as now I was close to being submerged under the thick, grey clay. I wanted to call out for help, but I knew damn well that there was nobody around to hear me nor help me, plus it’ll only come out as Pokémon language. Remember that awful dream I had where Johnson tried to drown me in quicksand? It’s just that, but that nightmare has become a real-life horror!

Still not thinking straight enough to make beneficial decisions and my head now starting to sink into the grey muck, I kept trying to get myself to not sink any further but to no avail. As a last-ditch effort to try and keep myself breathing oxygen so I can further fight this deep clay patch, I raised my head so my muzzle would point straight up. The downside of doing this was that my hearing became drowned out by the clay as my ears were submerged, and the clay enveloped over most of my face except my muzzle, causing me to not be able to see.

The sinking kept continuing at a terrifying crawl, me starting to lose hope that I’ll not be able to make it back to the comforting safety of my home. I kept slowly sliding downwards into the ground, the goopy clay unmercifully swallowing me and making me become one with it. Unfortunately, the realization of saving myself becoming a lost cause occurred to me. Out of severe desperation, I attempted to obtain one last giant gasp for air before sinking under, but that was short-lived as I soon got a mouthful of dirty clay in return. Before I fully became sunken under, I sputtered on the clay out of disgust, using a little of my precious oxygen. The clay jiggled about a little as I tried to get myself back at the surface, now sunken under and fighting a losing game.

I have now become fully sunken under.

But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to calm down and collect my thoughts while I still have oxygen.

Then I’ll try to get the fuck out of this sticky situation.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Meanwhile…

Wednesday, July 15th, 2020, 11:27 PM.

Crane’s Outing, Cranecrest, New York.

Cranecrest; a dock-like town/area that is nearly three to four times bigger than my hometown Pleasantdale. This large town sits right smack beside a very large body of water named Driftwood Lake, and contains a spacious park, a couple of supermarkets, some attractions for visitors, and much more stuff that I, the author, don’t feel like going on a rant for since I feel as if I’ll go on a massive tangent. Oh, should I also mention that at the edge of said town right by the lake, there’s a racetrack named “Automotive Raceway Of Cranecrest?” Pretty neat I must say. Now straight to the scene, which takes place at a bar named “Crane’s Outing” which is within walking distance away from the little-beach area that is the shores of the big lake.

Take a moment and imagine this; a big, modern, nice, and spacious place where the lights are turned down a little on the low side, bustling and crowded with hundreds of people hanging out with friends, family, acquaintances, or just feeling like being social on this special night. Dozens of tables are gathered, where people usually sit to either eat and drink or to have someplace to sit. A pool table with a fancy stained glass light hanging above sits in one corner of the building, with a few guys gathered around to see who’s the real pro. If you were entering the building, just ahead to your right would be the long pub table with a built-in cool plate where you would get your drinks, adorned with some stools so you could sit down and enjoy your Jack Daniel’s. Three flatscreen televisions hang above where the drinks are made, the left one airing a Soccer game taking place in some other country, the middle one airing the 24 Hours Of Daytona race, and the right one airing some golfing tournament. Not to mention, there’s also an outdoor area for hanging out and viewing the big lake, a few binocular telescopes being provided for better viewing. The sounds that surrounded the atmosphere were the constant chatter of people, the occasional clinking of beer-filled glasses, and the clacking of billiard balls every so often. What makes this night special is that “Crane’s Outing” usually has a big, party-like hangout with special events like music bands playing and whatnot, starting at 8:30 PM and ending somewhere around two in the morning, taking place around every month. Currently, a rock band just finished up their performance and in about 10 minutes another rock band will perform.

At one of the tables just about three times away from the pub table, Natalie’s parents are sitting down, spending their time together. At the current moment, Florence is drinking a Piña Colada cocktail whilst surfing through her social media feed, and Henry is having a non-alcoholic beverage while on the lookout for any trouble. Since it was rather crowded, there was a chance that something unlawful could slip under the cracks, but thankfully there are multiple bouncers around the bar on the lookout to prevent this from happening.

“What did you think of the performance the band did?” Florence asked Henry.

“Are you kidding? They did fantastic! I can’t wait for the next one!” Henry replied with high spirits.

“I agree with you; they did absolutely wonderful!” Florence agreed with Henry.

Florence > “Also, while we wait for the next band, do you mind keeping in touch with Natalie just to make sure everything is alright with her?”

Henry > “Oh sure, no problem. A quick check-in doesn’t hurt.”

Henry reached into his front right pocket and pulled out his iPhone 11 Pro Max. He then put in his password, went to his contacts, and then dialed his daughter. The phone rang for a bit, almost a little too long, and strangely then went to voicemail after it dialed for too long.

“Hmmm… strange. She went to voicemail. Not a worry; I can try again.” He thought to himself and dialed again.

He then waited for Natalie to pick up, the only sound being played in his right ear from the phone speaker being *Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr……………Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr……………Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr……………*

…And after a while, it went to voicemail once again. This of course didn’t sit too well with Henry.

He then tried once more, the phone ringing yet again, trying to get in contact with Natalie. Cold sweat started to lightly secrete from his hands, since nothing is as scary as not knowing if your child is doing ok or not. Tension built up within his mind, the phone still going at it for what felt like to him a whole night as the dialing seemingly drowned out the bustling bar atmosphere.

Abruptly, a familiar voice then spoke, “Hello?”

Connection to Natalie has finally been established.

“Sweetberries! How are things coming along? Is everything alright with that party of yours?” Henry asked, relieved that his daughter finally picked up the phone.

“Yeah, everything’s fine I guess,” Natalie replied back in a rather somber tone.

Henry then asks her, “Are you ok, Natalie? You don’t sound too happy. Is something going on, like, is someone bothering you?”

Natalie, trying her best not to sound distressed, lies through her teeth, “No, I’m perfectly fine. *sniffle* It’s just that there’s a lot of people to monitor and keep up with, you know, *sniffle* which in turn is making my nervousness and anxiety flare up a bit.”

“Are you sure? You sound as if you just were crying a while ago or something along those lines.” Henry pressed, still concerned about the well-being of his daughter.

“I wasn’t crying. *Sniffle* The smoke from the bonfire kept getting into my eyes and it was making my eyes water. Plus blame my allergies from earlier today flaring up tonight for some weird reason.” Natalie again lied, since she wasn’t comfortable with what happened and didn’t want any more trouble.

“Oh, right, your allergies,” Henry recalled.

“Also, how’s your boyfriend treating ya? How’s that boy doing tonight? Sorry about earlier.” Henry continued.

“It’s alright, dad; *sniffle* just don’t be all antsy on me and Jimmy,” Natalie answered.

As Natalie told all about the fun times with her boyfriend that happened during the party, Henry barely noticed something in the corner of his left eye. Out of instinct, he turned his head ninety degrees to his left and saw a hand reaching out and over a glass of what appeared to be beer, whose owner was a distracted young lady that appeared to be in her early 20’s, in a red dress with a silver necklace and earrings looking at her phone. The hand in question was black on the back of it, with a red palm area, and the arm with that hand had a cotton black hoodie sleeve. It also was holding something between its pointer finger and thumb. Then it dropped something questionable into the beer, pulling away from sight not even a few seconds later. Unfortunately, because the bar was rather crowded and the pub table area was also crowded, Henry couldn’t figure out exactly who it was that did the illegal deed.

“Hold on one-sec sweetberries, something fishy’s going on and I need to address it. Stay on the line until I’m done. Florence, stay here. I just saw someone spike a girl’s drink.” Henry quickly said and got up while putting his phone in his pocket.

Henry quickly walked over to the girl whose drink was tampered with, weaving and dodging through people. His heart began to pound, but he remained calm and professional. It was a matter of time before the girl picked up her drink, drinks it, and causes more problems.

Just as the girl picked up her drink, Henry came up to her in the nick of time and quickly stated “Lady in the red dress, don’t drink that.”

The girl looks up from her phone, pausing her action of wanting a sip whilst saying “Pardon?” in a British-Irish accent.

“Hey, I’m Henry. I’m one of the bouncers working here. I saw that your drink has been spiked by someone wearing red/black gloves and a black hoodie.”

It took maybe a second or two for the girl to process what had been said to her. Then she suddenly blurted out in disbelief “Bloody hell! I never even noticed! Thank you SO much for telling me!”

“You’re very welcome. I’ll cover the costs for your spiked drink if you want.”

“Please do. I haven’t even taken a single sip from it. Whoever dared to do such a thing is a straight-up fuckin’ cunt. Pardon my French, I’m just frustrated.”

“No need to be sorry mam; I understand. I would be mad as well if I found out my drink was spiked.”

“By the way, my name is Willow if you are curious.”

“Alright. Good to know.”

Henry got the attention of one of the bartenders and gave them the entire story of what went down seemingly undetected by anyone else, requesting a replacement for the girl’s now ruined beer. The bartender was willing to give the young gal a free replacement, taking the spiked drink and properly disposing of it while letting the other bartenders know about the frightening ordeal.

“Mother of mercy…” Willow softly said to herself still trying to fully process how close she was to being drugged or poisoned, her hand on her forehead.

“Just a friendly little reminder, always keep an eye on your drink to prevent things like this from happening again, alright? I don’t want to deal with another one of these situations, nor do my bouncer buddies either. Anyways, I hope you have a great night despite what happened.” Henry told Willow.

“I’ll treat this ordeal as a little hard lesson for me, but thank you regardless. I hope you have a bloody good trouble-free night, chap!” Willow thanked Henry again, lifting her new beer glass to him.

“Anytime, and you too,” Henry said, and went his separate way, getting back to his call with Natalie.

Without a second thought, Henry began to look for the mischievous deviant who spiked Willow’s beer, still on the phone with his daughter.

“Sorry about that; I had to deal with a girl’s drink being spiked and I didn’t fully get what you said about Jimmy.”

“It's alright, dad. Being a bouncer can be tough and chaotic from what I’ve heard.”

“You are nothing but correct, sweetberries. Alright, how’s this Jimmy kid treating you?”

“Jimmy and I had a very fun time tonight; me, him, and his friends roasted some marshmallows for a little bit, and we played a few games, along with some other activities. I love Jimmy dearly; he’s more than a godsend, and I love his energy.”

“I figured he would be a great guy. How’s he doing right now? Is he still with you?”

“He had to leave about a few minutes ago. I kinda wished he stayed a little longer.”

“Ok, fair enough. Anything else, kiddo? I gotta get back to my job soon, sorry.”

“No, it's fine; that’s pretty much it.”

“Well, I’m glad everything is under control on your side and you’re having fun. Take care, sweetberries. We’ll be home in about a few hours.”

“Love you, dad.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Henry then hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. By now our buff bouncer has been looking for the drink spiker for about a few minutes. Unfortunately for Henry, it seems as if the deviant has disappeared into the crowd without a trace, him digging up nothing but empty luck. To maximize the chances of the mysterious deviant being caught, he takes his walkie-talkie from his gear belt and says into it: “This is Henry Überstil, be on the lookout for someone wearing a black cotton hoodie and black/red gloves; I just recently witnessed them spike a girl’s drink and I was able to inform the girl in time. I wasn’t able to see their face or their other articles of clothing, however. Please provide any further information about the suspect if possible. Over.” with the walkie-talkie beeping after he released the talk button.

Shortly after, the walkie-talkie goes off, with other bouncers and police officers responding that they’ll keep an eagle’s eye out as best they can. Henry puts the walkie-talkie back and gets back to the table he and Florence were sitting at.

“Sorry I took long,” Henry told Florence, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s fine, babe. Were you able to catch them?” Florence questioned.

Henry shakes his head, “Unfortunately, I wasn’t. But I was able to get the girl a free replacement drink.”

“Well at least nobody was hurt in any way,” Florence sighed.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

July 15th, 2020, 11:30 PM.

Just Outside Glensville, New York.

The large, sticky, gray clay patch remained undisturbed for about a moment or two, being in its dormant state after swallowing and sucking under a recent victim. Evidence that something was pulled under could clearly be seen, a pair of pants stuffed with a person’s belongings rested atop, ripple marks and a visible line from the clay enveloping over a sinking victim adorning the goopy moonlit surface.

Slowly but without warning, slight movement began happening on the surface, becoming more and more noticeable as if something was still alive underneath the patch trying to get out.

Eventually, what then surfaced just moments later was me, a barely recognizable Umbreon with a heavy coat of thick gray clay caked on my entire body. The moment I surfaced, I let out the deepest gasp for air I think I’ve ever done, the cool, crisp oxygen filling up my lungs and delivering it to my bloodstream. My eyes opened, light from the dimly moonlit surroundings reaching the sensitive retinas within them. Then I rested atop the thick muck, attempting to regain my energy as I panted tremendously to catch my breath, my head and front paws being the only body parts above the surface. I did everything possible to recollect my thoughts, my mouth still festering with the putrid taste of earth and dirt.

Despite me just managing to settle out a terrifying sink into the clay and a nightmarish two minutes submerged, I soon started slowly falling into a strange state of calmness; my mind was cleared and empty of thoughts, emotions blank and colorless. The surrounding environment seemingly grew still; the air was stagnant with not even the slightest breeze being felt, the night being eerily quiet besides the soft sound of crickets chirping and nearby traffic, and the patch of clay almost having mercy on me. Not a single soul was present, either asleep or working their night shifts until the glimpse of golden morning light. Every one of my muscles was loosening up, stress oozing away from my body and being replaced with a subtle wave of calm energy, the clay patch unexpectedly starting to feel awkwardly comfortable and relaxing; I kinda liked it for some odd reason.

Around ten or so minutes sluggishly pass by, and I feel more willing to deal with this sticky situation head-on but now exhausted. I seriously didn’t want to deal with any more trouble; I just wanted to go home, get cleaned off and pampered by mom, and faint onto my bed.

The situation was handled in slow, fatigued strokes, almost as if I was trying to swim in a debilitated manner. The thick clay seemingly resisted against me, my energy short-lived and drying up fast even though I was taking it easy. I had no choice but to strategize how to get the hell out of this nasty, gray patch; taking a moment and resting on the surface once more before continuing.

I grabbed my now dirtied-up stuffed pants with my muzzle, and went back to business. Paw by paw, breath by breath. Every fatigued stroke, every exhausted body movement. Through muscles burning with fatigue, through ragged breaths desperate for air.

Before I knew it, I finally reached some ground that felt solid enough. Using all the strength left within me, I put my pants down on the ground and pushed them further onto land with my paw. I then put two front paws onto the edge, and attempted to pull myself out. I continued to struggle to bring oxygen to my seemingly shrinking lungs, me beginning to wheeze from my asthma.

I repeatedly thought to myself while growling in strength, “Come on…”

But as always, things don’t ever go in my favor. My muscles soon succumbed to fatigue, which made me slowly yet painfully slide back down into the thick, gray clay. My heart sinks, all the progress I made getting onto solid ground going down the drain within seconds.

I suddenly cried out in a lethargic, yet saddened vocalization, “Bre… Umbreon! (No… it's swallowing me back up!)”

Not long later I’m sunken back in neck-deep like the stupid werewolf I am, my head just above the surface. I just stayed where I was for a moment, my eyes now puppy-eyed and my ears flopped down. Without warning, I took a big fat breath of air, shoved my face into the gray sludge, and let out an Umbreon cry out of pure frustration and anger, the sound bubbling to the surface and popping in an ugly fashion while more clay somehow managing to get into my muzzle.

I get my face out of the mud and yell out with tears now starting to stream from my glowing red eyes, “UMBREON!!! BREON UMBRE EON!!!” (I’M TIRED!!! I DON’T WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS BULLSHIT ANYMORE!!!)”

Out of pure rage, I got back to getting myself out while my energy was being carried by my sheer frustration. I gripped the solid ground and started pulling myself out, my body escaping inch by inch. Then it ended as soon as it started when I finally got my rump and tail out, all four of my paws on the barely-soft gray clay, my limbs horribly trembling.

My vulpine-like legs gave out yet again, and I collapsed onto my right side, my clay-caked body making a soft *thud* upon impact. I sluggishly put my front paws on top of the bridge of my muzzle and proceeded to ugly cry until my tears ran dry. Time felt as if it slowed down so much the second hand wouldn’t budge until next week. All I ever wanted was to have fun at Natalie’s house, not to be treated like garbage and then be exposed by some overfilled garbage bag. I then told myself to suck it up and that life wasn’t fair to anyone.

After laying down for maybe another fifteen minutes, I slowly got back up onto all fours, exhausted and disheveled. I checked my stuffed pants to make sure nothing fell out, grabbed the stuffed pants by the muzzle, and then slowly trotted back home with a horrible feeling of defeat swarming me at all angles.

Just let this night be over already…

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Thursday, July 16th, 2020, 12:20 AM.

My House, Pleasantdale, New York.

Surprisingly nobody was around or on the streets while on the tiresome walk home; just me and my worrisome yet defeating thoughts. My brain ached nonstop to know if both Brian and Natalie were alright. I just couldn’t function or think straight walking from that clay patch all the way back to my house’s doorstep. The clay that caked my fur was already starting to dry up somewhat.

Not long since I arrived back home and knocked on the door, mom answered it. The moment she saw me, she froze.

She fumbled her words before asking me in concern, “Jimmy? What the heck happened to you?”

There was no other way to respond back besides simply flopping my clay-caked ears down and looking down at the ground in shame. I’m kinda thankful that I’m not able to speak in human language because I didn’t have the confidence to tell her what exactly happened.

“Poor thing… I’ll wash you up. Head to the bathroom, I’ll be with you momentarily.”

I tiredly trotted for the bathroom, my energy levels so damn low I wanted to faint right on the spot. Once I came into the aquamarine bathroom, I shoved the blue curtains aside, and let myself flop into the aquamarine bathtub like a ragdoll.

*THUMP*

I then just laid there, the clay from my body smeared onto the surface of said tub, letting out a deep sigh from my vulpine-like nose. My body was weak, legs heavy, starting to fall asleep already, and about to slip out from reality. No spaghetti was involved, however.

Snap back to reality, I started hearing mom’s footsteps approaching the bathroom. She swiped the curtains aside, and saw me laying on my side in the tub.

“You ok? I heard a noise that sounded like something fell.”

I tiredly nodded my head yes, and slowly got up to sit on my rump, letting out a quiet groan of exhaustion.

“Alright, just checking. I’m guessing you fell because you were tired?”

I nodded again.

“Awww… After I wash and dry you off, I can cuddle you if you want.”

Mom turned the shower dial on, cool water starting to pour from the bathtub faucet and into the tub. She pushed the button below the dial to activate the showerhead, the showerhead sputtering to life as cool water began to rush out. Then she began to tune the water temperature to make sure it was comfortable for me.

Mom finally put the showerhead right above me, and started washing off all of the clay. A river of gray sludge started flowing from me and right towards the drain as the water softened up the caked-on mud. The clay hesitantly melted from my body, slowly revealing my coat of black, vulpine-like fur along with my glowing yellow patterns, my fur becoming somewhat heavier from the weight of the water. I also attempted to “drink” the water to rinse out my muzzle from that god-awful earth taste from earlier.

Not much time passes, and my body from ear to tail is cleaned off from the gray earth. Mom took some shampoo and lathered my entire body, making sure to get every part of my body covered in those cleansing suds. More and more suds engulfed my body as she agitated the shampoo further, the sound of bubbles popping in my ears being surprisingly not too loud.

With all those bubbly suds covering every square inch of me, I looked as if I was a soapy cloud with four legs and a tail.

Brand new Eeveelution discovered, perhaps?

Hey mom, I think your were-Umbreon suddenly evolved into Sudseon!

Sorry, I just needed a little humor to lighten my mood.

The goofy little suds moment didn’t last long, and mom soon started washing away the agitated shampoo, leaving behind a pristine coat of clean Umbreon fur. She continued to rinse me off until she was sure she got all of those suds washed away.

Showertime was now over, and mom turned the shower dial off. The running water was abruptly put to a halt, the remaining liquid in the tub all draining away except for a few tiny puddles riddled here and there. She then hung up the showerhead and grabbed a towel to dry me off, the occasional drip from the drain and the showerhead being heard.

Once that was done, she then grabbed a hairdryer and a comb. She plugged it in and turned it on, the appliance slowly whirring to life and expelling hot air. She then got to work on drying me off, gently waving it from side to side and combing my fur to prevent any knots or kinks from forming. Although the hairdryer made me rather sweltering, I find it to be rather soothing to me. The noisy yet calming white-noise-like sound of the hairdryer, the hot wind blowing from said hairdryer in my fur, the soothing wind noise in my ear from time to time, the still atmosphere of my home, and the almost orgasmic feeling of having your hair brushed/combed (or in my case fur) all were a recipe for one of the most relaxing and spa-like experiences a mother could offer her child; it felt so fucking good I couldn’t help but purr a little on the loud side.

All the water that once soaked my fur was now evaporated away, and my fur looked and felt so floofy as a result of mom’s pampering skills. She then turned off the hairdryer, unplugged it, and put it and the comb away.

As she came to pick me up, she said to me “I wish you were human right now, because I really want to know exactly what happened. Sometimes I can’t help but worry about you; it’s just who I am as a mother.”

“Umbreon… (Wish I was, too…)” I quietly vocalized through a purr, with my head a little sideways and my now poofy ears flopped down, soon getting picked up, put on my back, and cradled by mom.

“Well, in the morning before I go to work you can tell me if you’re up soon enough. Besides whatever happened at Natalie’s, did you have fun my little glowing moonlit munchkin?” She continued as she walked over to the living room couch and sat down with me.

I slowly nodded yes with an almost fake smile, my tail wagging a little bit just so I could at least put mom to some amount of ease.

“Well, at least you had fun it seems.”

Then the thoughts of worrying about if Natalie and Brian are at least alright in some way came back again. I did my best to shove those thoughts aside until I’m back to my human form, but they always found a way to come right back to me. Instead of following my train of thought further down the rabbithole of worry, I simply just kept redirecting to mom comforting me.

I really couldn’t help but think…

Are Natalie and Brian truly ok? I mean-

Ooooh, mom, keep rubbing my belly, that feels good!

That sudden feeling of mom petting that area felt oddly good; I’m usually ticklish there, but now I can’t resist panting like a dog because I loved it so much.

I know, it sounds weird. What do you expect? I’m a werewolf. Werewolves have soft sides and behave like dogs in a way, too. I’m a quirky kid as well. Just don’t judge me too hard, please…

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Thursday, July 16th, 2020, 12:40 AM.

Crane’s Outing, Cranecrest, New York.

The bar was now much more crowded, with at least a few times more people attending the special event. A band was now playing, hence the larger number of people present. The atmosphere at Crane’s Outing was now far more surreal and jam-packed than it was a little over an hour ago, with hundreds of people vibing and jamming the night away without a care. But a more crowded and noisier bar means bigger and greater opportunities for criminals, male or female, to play their pawns and execute their plans undetected.

Now back to Henry, who was doing his usual job of being on the lookout for dangerous mischief while spending time with his lovely wife. His main target was that mysterious deviant from earlier, who has yet to be seen and captured. Keep in mind it's rather hard to try and catch a drink-spiker due to not only how discrete they make their moves in a public setting, but also if you aren’t able to fully know what the culprit looks like. They can be anyone no matter what they look or act like. The best you can do to stay safe from such drink spikings is to always keep an eye on your drink. If you look away for even a second, always assume it's been spiked; better safe than sorry.

“How’s my love doing on this fine night so far?” Henry said Florence in a loving tone.

Florence replies back in a soft voice, “She’s enjoying every moment of it.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m enjoying this night as well.”

Henry proceeds to give his wife a soft, loving kiss, cradling her jaw with affection. Then Henry begins to feel his right pocket vibrate repeatedly, due to him receiving a call from someone. He took out his phone, and then checked to see who it was.

Natalie.

Henry answered the phone, and put the speaker to his ear.

“Hello sweetberries! Everything still good on your end? How was that party of yours?” He started off.

Natalie replies in a somewhat better tone, “Yep! The party started to die down a little earlier than expected so I might as well prepare to pack things up soon. Also the party I had was through the roof as well!”

“That’s great to hear. You can tell me all about it the next morning since I’m rather busy still. Just be sure to not stay up too late darling, alright?”

“Yes, dad.”

As Natalie continued to speak for a few moments, something in Henry’s peripheral vision just caught his attention, as usual causing him to turn his head. What he then saw made him freeze in place for a moment; he just was able to see through the crowd and see the girl from earlier now noticeably drunk slowly heading for the bathroom. But that wasn’t all; she was being followed by someone wearing a hat and a black hoodie with the hood up. Henry’s face scrunched up for a second, Natalie from the other side of the line repeatedly asking him “Hello? Can you hear me? Are you there?”

Henry quickly gets up and says to Natalie while interrupting her mid sentence, “Natalie, I’ll be right back there’s some serious trouble beginning to brew.” and mindlessly puts his phone in his pocket without hanging up.

He then began to walk towards the bathroom the girl and the mysterious deviant were heading to, turning back for a second when Florence said “H-Henry?” but continuing to quickly strut while pushing people aside. Adrenaline began to slowly flare up within his body, preparing him for the possible worst to come.

Not long passes and Henry arrives at the bathroom where the girl got unknowingly followed into, the bathroom having shiny white subway tiles and taking on a very modern appearance, not to mention the entrance taking a left and then a right turn before leading to the actual bathroom bit. Not knowing how the deviant could act if spotted, Henry slowly walked in, peeking out the first corner because who knows what could happen.

Then he peeked out the second corner, in which he saw the culprit, standing and watching the poor drunken girl puke her insides out as if he was waiting for her to notice, smirking with their hands in the pockets of their hoodie. Seeing this made him rather unnerved and angered, but this was nothing new as he dealt with douchebags that take advantage of other people every once in a while, most of them being male.

“God knows what he did to Willow…!” Henry angrily thought to himself, not wanting another innocent soul to fall victim to being drugged and raped.

Unfortunately his instincts got the best of him, and he slowly approached the deviant, taking a quick look up and down his body for any appearances that may show up as being familiar. He wanted to confront the man and see if everything was alright.

Suddenly, Henry’s shoes let out a squeak, startling and alerting the deviant. The deviant then quickly turns their head, their smug appearance quickly turning sour in a heartbeat as they realize who was approaching them. This made Henry’s heart sink at the drop of a hat.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING SNOOPING IN *MY* BUSINESS?!” The deviant shouts lividly at Henry in a somewhat French-accent with a very slight hint of Russian, pointing a finger.

What was dressing the deviant’s hand caught Henry’s eyes. It didn’t even take him a few seconds to connect the dots, the article being rather familiar.

Lo and behold, the gloves from earlier! The dots all connected together, his heart now racing as he realized who this guy was. If you know, well… you know.

“Wait a minute… You’re that guy from earlier,” Henry sternly said, professionally maintaining every ounce of his calm like a top secret agent.

The deviant, now angry beyond words, says “What guy?!”

Henry shoots back “You’re that scumbag who tried spiking that woman’s beer from earlier!”

“I didn’t do FUCKIN’ SHIT! Regardless, you don’t have any proof to back up that far fetched claim of yours!!! How would you even know it’s me?!”

“I may not have the evidence Mr. Tough Guy, but I know for a fact that you were the one since I saw someone with those EXACT same gloves from over an hour ago drop something mistrustful in the beer of the very same person you followed.”

“HASN’T YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU NOT TO SNOOP IN OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESS?! DO YOU HAVE ANY GOD DAMN IDEA WITH THAT TINY UNDERDEVELOPED BRAIN OF YOURS WHAT YOU COULD GET YOURSELF INTO?!”

“Was that a threat you just gave me? Plus, I’m a bouncer and I technically work for the police, so it is MY JOB to know what other people are up to whether you consent to that or not. Calm your attitude and JUST work with me. Do you want me to do it the easy way or the hard way?”

“I DON’T CARE WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE OR WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANT, JUST GET THE FUCK OUT!!!”

“You’re making my patience run short, you know-”

“AND YOU’RE WREAKING HAVOC ON MINE!”

“Oh, isn’t that so? Then I suggest let’s do this the easy way so we don’t have to experience a bad outcome. I’m going to have to ask you to please let me search your belo-”

“WHO DO YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU ARE?! JUST BECAUSE YOU QUOTE ‘TECHNICALLY WORK’ FOR THE POLICE FORCE DOESN-”

Suddenly, a blister pack of unlabeled, small white circle-shaped pills fell out from the deviant’s hoodie and onto the floor, causing the argument between the two to come to a grinding halt. They stood in their place for a good moment, the color on the deviant’s face running dry. Without second thought Henry swiped the pack before the deviant could unfreeze himself.

As Henry inspected the pack with a careful eye, he said “So, my senses AND my personal proof ARE correct. You were the one that tried to drug that British-Irish girl, Willow.”

“First of all, do you EVEN KNOW if that’s her name or not? Second, that’s my damn pain medica-”

“Listen to me carefully; I intercepted the very same lady that’s currently dry-heaving in this very bathroom and prevented her from drinking the very drink that you spiked, and I offered to replace it for her. After that was said and done, she let me know about her name and thanked me. Second, this ISN’T pain medication; this is a very well known rape drug, the same one you used to-”

Without warning, the deviant charged at him, pulling out a knife and attempting to stab Henry right in the gut.

…

Henry only had not even seconds to react. But thankfully he was faster, stopping the deviant’s knife just a few centimeters from his gut. It took a moment for the two to process what went down, Henry almost sweating as his heart was pounding with adrenaline running wild within his body, looking at the knife that was just about to puncture through him. He then slowly looked up and into the deviant’s eyes, and with a look that was both monotonously calm yet could kill, he quietly said in an almost passive-aggressive complimentary tone, “Nice knife you got there.”

He then abruptly yet forcefully took the wrist with the knife and pinned it to the bathroom wall, with the deviant attacking and hitting him in retaliation. Henry defended himself, trying to neutralize him as he knocked the knife out from his hands and kicked it far from reach.

But then out of nowhere the deviant fought back HARD and with vengeance. The deviant wailed on him with unexpected force, possibly much worse than any other imbecile Henry had to deal with during his time as a bouncer. Soon he had no choice but to pull out his nightstick in an attempt to at least give him some advantage.

Apparently Henry’s strategy was unfairly proven to be a foolish one, as Henry tried to strike the deviant, but the deviant suddenly grabbed it and swiftly took it from him. Then came the blows and extreme force from the deviant, him vibe checking the ever living shit out of Henry as he tried to shield himself from the sudden ambush. As expected or not from the reader, Henry tried to grab it back with two hands, but the deviant took advantage of that and violently pushed him into one of the bathroom’s sinks. Henry lost his balance from this and fell backwards onto the sink, his upper back coming into contact with the porcelain sink and making it dislodge from the wall and onto the floor with a glassy CRASH!

Henry obtained a few minor cuts from the broken pieces as he got up, and tried to fight back. However, before he could process what happened, the deviant swiftly turned him around facing the sink, came to his left side and put his right hand on the back of Henry’s head. He yelled out “HOW ABOUT YOU TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR!!!” and threw his head into the mirror with brutal force, causing the mirror to crack severely and have a few pieces fall out onto the porcelain-shard-ridden floor. Henry let out a short cry of pain, covering his now bleeding forehead as he fell back down.

With Henry’s options on how to fight back soon drying up like a riverbed during a drought, he quickly pulled out his walkie-talkie and quickly yet frantically said into it “This is Henry Überstil I require immediate backup in the woman’s res-”

His call out for help didn’t last as long as he’d hoped, as the deviant hastily knocked the walkie-talkie from his hand, breaking it into many pieces and rendering it useless as he said to him “Screw you and your bouncer buddies! I’ll have you beaten to a cherry smoothie before they come and help your sorry ass, vous fils d'une pute mouchard.”

The deviant pointed Henry’s own nightstick at him, and yelled “I hope I was able to teach you a lesson you soon won’t forget!!! Let this be a reminder to not snoop in not only my business but oth-”

Little did the deviant know, Henry still had a lot of fight left in him and powered through the pain. He grabbed his nightstick back with no warning, swatted at him and quickly got back up while doing so, fighting back like a bat out of hell and teaching him a hard lesson in return.

“If you so wanted to beat me into a pulp, you should’ve done it while I was vulnerable, but no, you just had to be all talk. Now quit resisting and wait with me while backup arrives!” Henry shouted at the deviant while continuing to give him a beatdown.

“JAMAIS!!!”

“You are one tough ass cookie you know that? You’re making this way too hard on all of us!”

“Oh really?!”

Right when the deviant said this, he punched our hero Henry right square into the side of his head, in which Henry returned the favor by swatting him in the abdomen. Henry was again greeted with vengeance from the deviant as the deviant knocked him down by push-kicking him in the diaphragm, before the deviant then retreated away while saying “Ugh… Merde…”

Henry tried to get back up from sitting down, but he found his body to be rather weakened. As much as Henry hated seeing the deviant getting away without any real consequence besides some bruises and wounds, Henry had to give his body a break and tend to his injuries as he was losing blood on the mild-moderate side, him putting his left hand on his wounded forehead

“D-damn Frenchy!” Henry growled as he saw his now bloodied hand, him accidentally ingesting a little blood that trickled down his face.

As Henry attempted to stop the bleeding with not much success, he saw a few bouncers and police officers arrive on the scene, but it was too late; the damage was done and the deviant seemingly managed to get away. First thing the police officers did was ask if he was ok and about what happened, Henry telling the whole story including what happened an hour before, showing them the blister pack from earlier. Meanwhile, the bouncers were directed by the police to check on Willow, who was now fainted on the floor like a Pokémon. The police officers tended to his injuries via using paper towels to stop the bleeding as the bouncers requested medical services via walkie-talkie to arrive on the scene. The police officers even told all the other bouncers and police officers via walkie-talkie about the situation, informing them to be on the lookout for the deviant as Henry described them.

Wanting to let his wife know about the whole ordeal, he took his phone out of his pocket, and it turns out Natalie was still on the line the entire time. He put his phone to his ear and let her know of his presence.

Natalie frantically said to Henry, “Dad! Your phone managed to pick up everything that happened. Are you ok?! What the hell happened?!”

Henry replied to her in a rather energy-dry voice, “Don’t worry sweetberries, everything is fine over on my end. Just had to deal with a drink spiker that retaliated against me.”

“Are you sure?! I could’ve sworn I heard glass breaking and you letting out a cry of pain, accompanied by lots of shouting! Please tell me the truth, I’ve already had a stressful enough night and I don’t need anymore of it!”

“Calm down, take a breather. I’ll be ok. I only have a handful of bruises and injuries. The only thing you should worry about at this moment is being in charge of the party until it is over and cleaning up afterwards. I will see you later today since it’s technically the next day currently. Get some rest for tonight when everything is done.”

“Well… if you say so… love you dad. Gotta go now, one of my friends is calling me.”

“Have a great rest of your night. Love you too.”

He then hung up the phone, and called his wife Florence to let her know what happened while he waited for medical services to arrive.

It’s been an unexpectedly rough night for our two heroes, the were-Umbreon that is Jimmy and the bouncer that is Henry. But little would they know, the next six months and beyond will slowly become more burdensome and even more terrifying not just for them, but for their friends and family as well. How will they cope with the challenges soon to be presented to them? And what will they do to protect the ones they love, care for and pity as times slowly grow sour? No other than the test of time will tell us the (soon to be long) anticipated answers to these seemingly unsolvable questions.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Thursday, July 16th, 2020, 8:30 AM.

My House, Pleasantdale, New York.

Last night was beyond rough. Real fucking rough. I was shaken up so much last night that I had trouble relaxing and keeping my thoughts straight, and sleeping felt like some burdensome task designed to drain one’s motivation toward a drought. Yes, I was getting eased up when Mom comforted me, but the thoughts of the whole ordeal kept returning. When mom tucked my furry self into bed, it was hard to tame my thoughts and worries for Natalie and Brian. My eyelids were acting like two repelling magnets whenever my eyes tried closing and drifting off to sleep, me just mindlessly staring at the ceiling with the lackluster reflection of my luminous spots against the wall. I couldn’t finally feel some inner peace until around four in the morning, and I gave myself the rest I deserved.

I felt miserable beyond words when I awoke from my alarm, me all disheveled and my sides cramping something horrible as I went to silence it. I didn’t even feel like getting out of bed; I just wanted to sleep the day away like some depressed person. But, not letting my feelings get the best of me, I sluggishly got my ass up and out of bed, exiting my rooms moments later.

My mom then saw me, her all dressed for work and just finishing up to get to her nine-to-three job. So, of course, she said to me, “Good morning, honeybun. Can I talk to you for a quick moment?”

Knowing what she wanted to ask me, the hesitant reply, “Yeah, sure,” was spoken.

We then went to the kitchen and sat at the dining table to discuss things. We sat across from each other, and she looked at me somewhat concernedly as she asked, “What happened last night? You don't have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable, but I recommend you do since I’m worried about you. Why were you covered in clay and disheveled?”

I exhaled quietly, tightly pressing my lips a second later as my eyes rolled toward the bottom right of me. Not long passes until I say, “It’s a bit complicated, but I’ll do my best.”

“Go on, I’m all ears.”

And there I went, explaining to her what the hell kind of fiasco went down at Natalie’s, first starting with me just casually hanging out with Brian, us two peacefully playing ping-pong while having a random-ass conversation about some comic book I was reading. The path of the conversation then took a random turn in another direction, with Brian bringing up those blowdartings and the havoc they caused in the southeastern part of New York. Brian then asked me if I had heard about the blowdartings, and if I was blowdarted and became a werewolf because of it. I was about to try and probably lie through my teeth, then some bighead who smelled awful pinned me against a wall and menacingly asked me if I was a werewolf. Then a big fight happened, with me mindlessly retreating into the bathroom I thought was safe. The lycanthropy thing occurred unexpectedly, and somehow that fat bighead found me and presented me to some people. I tried to retreat and get my stuff, but then I got into a fight with said bighead and Natalie unintentionally revealed to Fat Bastard that I was a werewolf. Lastly, I ran away and tried to get back home to safety, before getting sucked under in some deep mud (or quicksand) which I had been able to get out of.

Mom didn’t even know where to fucking start. She had to take a moment to take in her son’s story, her hands on her forehead.

Moments later, she replied, “You’re not in trouble, but I’m rather disappointed in what happened.”

I then blurt out, “D-Disappointed?! Mom, I can’t help that I was a victim of circumstance here! It was completely out of my contro-”

Mom politely cut me off by saying, “Listen, I understand. It isn’t your fault. I never said I was disappointed in you; rather, I’m disappointed in the events that happened according to what you said.”

“I know saying sorry won’t fix things, but I’m sorry for this whole thing happening. Now everyone will know what dark secret I’m hiding.”

“So what if he tells other people or knows you’re a fucking werewolf? Everybody knows and talks about the whole blow-syringe-darts thing and the werewolves that came to be. At the very least be thankful nobody knows you’ve killed a man, especially the person responsible for the whole thing!”

“I get that, but not everyone is so accepting of the whole werewolf thing, let alone the reputation they had from the start or even before the blowdartings!”

“So?! The entire damn state of New York is up in flames about these news! The last thing you should worry about is someone not taking you seriously! By the looks of it, everyone is learning to accept that this is reality and not some bedtime story gone awry; I’ve seen the news, you’ve seen the news, everyone and their pet dog has seen the news. Everybody has no choice but to live with this, and it is not going away anytime soon.”

I just sat there, head empty for a fleeting moment before sighing and saying, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. Last night was rough and simply spiraled out of my control.”

Mom swiftly yet soothingly replied as she got up and hugged me, “Like I said, don’t be sorry; none of this was your fault. If anyone were to be you at that moment, I’m sure the same outcome would happen to most. Of course, things could’ve gone much worse, but thankfully the worst or worse didn’t happen.”

I gently embraced Mom’s comforting hug, constantly yet unintentionally ruminating about last night in my head, the worrying notions of Natalie and Brian being ok or not blocking out every other thought that tried to pop into my brain. Now that I think about this whole situation further, I can’t help but be fearful of what people might think of me, let alone my peers at school; my senior year of school being ruined because of some idiot who decided to role-play as a mad scientist on some unsuspecting people was the last thing I want happening to me. The constant pressure of not going out during full moons, let alone ever since last night kept weighing down on weak shoulders.

“As much as I hate to say this, I gotta get going now. Just don’t fret over the whole situation, alright? I’ll be back home after my shift, and we can maybe work on something productive together, like working towards your driver’s license. In the meantime, try to take your mind off it and keep yourself company. Since it is nice out today, why not take a walk and decompress?”

I somberly replied, “Yes Mom…”

Mom then got her car keys and headed out the door, saying, “Love you honeybun!” with me replying, “Love you too.” The door then closed, with her locking it shortly after. Lastly, the faint sound of her getting in her car and driving off could also be heard.

Bam.

Alone at home once again, this time in delicious worry-nonstop-about-last-night flavor.

Doing things I liked in my free time now felt… worthless. I had this indescribable emptiness within me, a certain emptiness that felt like nothing could fill it, not even worthwhile fillers like doing productive activities or hobbies. My body, inner feelings, and my overall self felt unwilling to get out of this tarpit known as a horrible funk. It’s like I’m stuck in that mudhole last night all over again; easy to get in, but next to impossible to get out if you don’t know what to do. So with my mind on autopilot, I just headed to my room and sat on my bed with the lights off like I usually do on bad days like these. The room was a little dark but lit by the outdoors as if I never needed the bedroom light.

A few minutes strolled by, only to feel like hours to me, when suddenly somebody rang my house’s doorbell. Without warning, all my worrisome thoughts were quickly swept away like a hydrogen bomb leveling a city within seconds. Getting my demotivated ass up and out of my room, I was now more focused on who was behind my front door this time.

I opened the door, and a familiar face stood on my doorstep, with an expression that looked guilty and reeking of shame.

“Natalie? W-what are you doing here?” I stuttered, somewhat shocked since I never expected her to be here.

Natalie was on the verge of sobbing, sniffling as she uttered, “I’m sorry about last night…”

Out of instinct, I gave her a friendly, comforting hug and said, “Don’t be. None of this was your fault, nor was it mine. Come inside. We can talk about it if you wish.”

We went inside, with me closing the door behind her and sitting at the dining table. I sat down next to her to try and comfort her, since it pained me severely to see her in such a heartbreaking mood. Natalie grabbed a napkin, and blew into it a bit on the loud side, with her wiping her tears.

I soothingly say to her, “Hey, hey, babe… cool it. Listen, you can tell me everything that happened, you know that right?”

She nods a second later.

“Can you please tell me what happened with that horrible kid last night? I’m apprehensive about you.”

Natalie started her story, her saying that she was at the bonfire when she suddenly heard the commotion and wanted to see what the ruckus was about. She managed to break up the fight, but the damage was already done as my friend Brian was injured by a few of Fat Bastard’s punches, and started to develop a black eye. Natalie was more focused on tending to Brian’s injuries than on Fat Bastard and helped him out for a while, before keeping him outside to prevent Fat Bastard from finding him. She also told me that Brian was alright and is still doing ok as of now. A little while later, she went to the bathroom, and then she saw me in my werewolf form, being hurt by that bozo who was built like a garbage truck.

“P-p-p-lea-se J-J-Jimmy… Y-you have to bel-*sniff*-lieve me, I never meant to… to… *gasp* to reveal to him th-th-that you were a werewolf.”

“I forgive you Natalie; we all make mistakes like that during times of stress. But, honestly, everybody knows about the whole blowdarting thing and the werewolfism that followed through because of it at this point. Well, at least in the southeastern part of New York. So what if he knows? The worst he could do is tell other people and those people would just be like, ‘Dude, I already know about the werewolf thing; you don’t have to tell me.’ That’s pretty much what my mom assured me, but who knows at this point.”

I continued, “Now, what did that big bozo do to you exactly? If I’m not mistaken, it sounded like he touched you inappropriately, but I could be wrong as I was more focused on getting out of there.”

Without warning, Natalie’s tears began to show even more as her face went as red as the inside of a watermelon. She even began to whimper as she covered her face, afraid to tell me exactly what had happened.

“Please, Natalie, just tell me. What did he do to you?” I pressed.

“I don’t want to saaaayyyy…” She softly sobbed, fighting back boiling-hot tears on the verge of crying.

“What did he do to you?” I continued, very worried about her mental well-being.

It took a moment for her to gain the confidence required to let it out, her saying, “He… *gasp* *sniff* He… He touched me…” followed by her breaking down into a rather distressing breakdown of tears and ugly crying.

Wanting to know further, I asked, “Where and how did he touch you?”

I continued to try and comfort her, to seemingly no avail. Natalie kept on trying to form words together, but they could not break free from the horrible prison that was her distress and sobbing. She was trying her best to say what happened and to calm herself down, but she was all shaken up and disturbed by what happened, most likely even traumatized.

After a few unsettling moments of her not being able to make out complete words and sentences, she finally uttered through horrific, overpowering sobs, “He… He put his hands into my pants and… *sniff* and… *gasp* and t-t-tried to f-ff-fff-ff-finger me…”

God, the moment I heard her say that, my heart sank and I began to see red. It took me everything in my damn power to try and not show my sheer anger, me wanting to clench my hands into fists of unfiltered rage. As I said, it’s one thing to give me a hard time and to bully or threaten me, but if that’s towards my friends and/or family, you’ve just crossed multiple lines and have pissed me off. But sexual assault and beyond, however?

Alrighty then, bucko. NOW YOU HAVE MADE ME FUCKING WRATHFUL.

I kept my composure and asked her, “Do you know their name or anything about them? I need to know as much about them as possible so I can report them to the police.”

“I wish I did… I’m so damn sorry…”

She hugged me tight and cried her eyes out onto my chest, which I hugged back in return. Then, I gently patted her back, doing everything within my power to comfort her.

“Let’s try to take your mind off it for now; dwelling on it will not help. How about we talk about something else, like how your parents are doing?”

“To make matters worse last night, while on the phone with my Dad, he had to deal with some idiot who tried to spike some girl’s drink and do god knows what with them. A fight broke out between them, and my Dad had to be in the hospital overnight due to some injuries inflicted on him.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry to hear. Is he doing ok as of now?”

“Thankfully, he is. He’ll be out soon; he’s just had a long rough night of being checked and whatnot. I was not able to sleep a fucking wink last night, and the only thing keeping me awake is the extra coffee that my mom brewed for me.”

“I’m on the same boat as you, Natalie. I couldn’t fall asleep until maybe four in the morning. My sides are cramping something bitchful to add salt to the wound. As stupid as I sound, let’s just take our minds off of it. We can do something out of the house together, so we aren’t just dwelling on this. For now, let’s just take it easy. How’s that sound?”

“Alright… That’s fine, I guess…”

Honestly, I never really had a full-blown girlfriend that would not only support me but also need my support. I’ve had a few relationships before, but those were just close friends and nothing closer to someone I could readily want to passionately love. And here I am, not knowing how to comfort a super close friend (or girlfriend in this case) that has been shaken up like a Stop & Shop soda bottle this freaking badly. Powerlessness was all that could be found; everything that was done to help her felt like it wouldn’t make a dent. But little does anyone know, fate has set up many extreme events that’ll make last night look like a small oopsie-daisy that one would do on a lazy Sunday.

Last night will be only an infinitesimal bump in the road compared to what events the future holds secret.

Also, Fat Bastard’s identity needs to be surfaced. Honestly, who knows when he’ll strike back? It almost feels as if he’s a ticking time bomb before he does something even more extreme. Yes, I know I must be more focused on my life and get my goals fulfilled, but a fire has started to burn in my heart against this trashbag; a fire so strong and raging that nothing could put it out, not even starving it of oxygen or drowning it underwater. I have to fucking find him and make sure he pays for what he did to Natalie and not only that make sure he doesn’t spread sensitive information about me so I don’t end up on some watch-

I need to stop myself. Seriously. This whole worry world that keeps drowning me has to be adequately addressed so it doesn’t keep affecting me.

Let’s take it easy for now.

But how the fuck am I supposed to do that when I have a terrible compulsive tendency to be anxious and perturbed by seemingly everything ever since that spring day?

These squeaky wheels need to have grease applied to them sooner rather than later.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Saturday, July 18th, 2020, 5:25 PM.

Cranecrest, New York.

The scent of summer and floral aromas filled the air, with no cloud in sight on this beautiful day. Everybody (if not most people) is out from work, spending as much of their sweet time making the most of it, the town of Cranecrest physically and audibly bustling with life, residents, visitors, and even tourists alike. Cranecrest is a more popular area for visitors and whatnot compared to most of the other towns that neighbor Pleasantdale, especially regarding Cranecrest's two most popular attractions: Driftwood Lake and Automotive Raceway Of Cranecrest. The two attractions are busy almost every day, especially on the weekends. Driftwood Lake has many boats sailing on the waters, and even people having fun while canoeing and jet-skiing for example, not to mention fishing too. In the winter, the lake is famous for ice skating and even hosting some ice racing events with exotic race cars! Speaking of which, AROC is a giant hotspot for automotive enthusiasts, racers, Cars And Coffee meetups, tuners, the list goes on. Also, they have partnerships with multiple racing schools to teach how to race and the sciences behind motorsports. The racetrack is located just beside Driftwood Lake and is about three and a quarter miles a lap at maximum and can be altered to as short as one and a half miles. To make things even better, it has a quarter-mile dragstrip that hosts events on the Fourth of July and other Holidays!

Ok, enough talk. Let’s get back to the story. If I kept at it, you’d get bored in a heartbeat.

The worries about the whole fiasco at Natalie’s party have surprisingly been shimmered down, but still living rent-free in my head. I heard that Natalie’s Dad had just been discharged yesterday and is recovering well. Brian is doing alright, and has gone to the doctor recently so his blackeye could be treated. Surprisingly, no information about Fat Bastard’s identity has arisen. Still, my friends and friends of friends have been talking about him, even going as far as making theories about him. It still intrigues me how and why he felt and sounded painfully familiar.

Mom and I were out at Cranecrest, running some errands. She is currently at the post office, making some returns from Amazon. In the meantime, I was standing outside next to one of the sidewalk trees to warm up since I still felt cold from the shiver-inducing cold of the AC of Mom’s 2020 Chevy Equinox. I did run an errand for Mom, and that was to get a bouquet of Orange Tulips from the flower shop next door to, well, put on my Dad’s gravestone. It’s a burdensome topic to talk about, and the best I can say for now is that I lost him when I was fourteen. A little more info about him is that he introduced me to the exhilarating world of automotive. He was also a bit of a race driver who drove a homologated 1985 Corvette C4 he rescued from a junkyard and customized for racing. We keep his original Corvette racecar in our garage, keeping it in pristine showroom condition, not to mention putting Orange Tulips on the driver’s side seat of the car and his grave in remembrance of him. If you’re wondering why the oddly specific flower species, it’s Dad’s favorite flower. How I lost him, you ask? Long story short, he was involved in a horrible hit-and-run accident that landed him in the hospital for over three months before he passed away.

God dammit. I miss my father. He was such a role model for me and taught me so much about cars. Plus, we went to many car shows, won a few awards, and raced at many different racetracks in the USA. To make matters even worse, every time Mom or I go to do the routine cleaning of his car (about once a month), we can’t help but get flashbacks to an amazing automotive-filled life that’s now unreachable by no reasonable means, and those flashbacks are only getting more heartbreaking by the year. It fucking hurts just thinking about him; I would do anything to see him again and race one last race with him.

I just blankly looked at the Orange Tulips, almost able to hear my Dad’s voice say, "Don’t worry about me, JimJims. Nothing great lasts forever, as shitty as that sounds. Best you could do is follow my legacy. I believe in you, kid. Reach for the stars." My throat began to feel like I tried swallowing a pro league bowling ball, and my eyes welled up with a tsunami of hot tears that almost stung.

Extremely heartbroken me was about to burst into a crying fit until I felt something soft and cool slightly clawing at my right leg, followed by some yipping and a "Vulpix!" I looked down and saw an ice Vulpix jumping up at me while yipping happily and very excitedly, its multiple tails wagging furiously as its ice-blue collared pink nametag jingled. It had three fully grown tails with two other developing ones, so it appears to be very young. Seeing the little fox Pokémon warmed my heart a bit. I bent down, and it rolled onto its back to present its icy white belly while panting happily. My hand met its little tummy, and it felt cold to the touch. Plus its fur was the softest thing I have ever felt.

Moments later, I heard a girl with a somewhat Spanish accent say while running in my direction, “Snowy! There you are! Don’t ever run away from me like that, someone could snatch you up or you could get hurt!”

Slightly startled, I stopped petting the little ice kitsune and said, “Oh, sorry about that.”

She quickly replied while picking up the Vulpix, “No, you’re perfectly fine. I’m sorry. Snowy tends to be a bit of a runner; I’m trying to work on that with her. Plus, she tends to get overly excited easily.”

The girl in question had long, red hair braided into a ponytail. She wore a fancy white dress, a beach hat, and sketchers. She was maybe sixteen or seventeen at maximum and around five foot six at least. Plus, she had freckles and the bluest freaking eyes I have ever seen.

“She’s so adorable. Snowy is her name, right?” I asked her.

She then responds, “Yes, she’s a six-month-old ice Vulpix. Also, my name is Lillie, by the way.”

“Jimmy. Nice to meet you, Lillie.”

A short yet awkward pause ensues as she seemed to stop and take a look at me for a moment.

Lillie asks me, “Hold on a moment, you look rather familiar. Do you happen to be the boyfriend of Natalie by any chance?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” I answered with a curious look.

“I just heard through the grapevine via group chats, that’s all. I also could’ve sworn I saw you at Natalie’s party last Wednesday.”

“That’s also true; I was at Natalie’s house last Wednesday. Do you happen to know who that fat kid was that sexually assaulted Natalie? I’m seeing if I could make a police report against them.”

“I don’t, but yeah I have heard and seen the whole fiasco involving him. If I’m not mistaken, some dude named Vincenzo told me that you were blowdarted and became a werewolf. Is that true?”

“Well, since everyone knows about the whole situation with Johnson, I guess there’s no point in hiding that I am a werewolf.”

“Aw, shucks! Sorry to hear. The same thing happened with my Dad; he was blowdarted but never became a werewolf even during full moons, but he, unfortunately, had an allergic reaction to whatever was inside those blowdarts.”

“Ooof. That sucks. What about your mom or your brother?”

“I don’t have a brother. Plus, my Dad divorced my mom and has full custody of me.”

“Jeez, is it alright if you can tell me why?”

“My mother was a homophobic and abusive asshole towards not only me but mostly towards my papa. She was super controlling and tried to ruin his reputation multiple times, and to make matters worse, she would even occasionally physically assault him and threaten to do horrible things to him. Every month he would be graffitied with wounds and injuries that a few times got infected. He would be drained of energy due to how little sleep he gets at night, and if he ever does fall asleep, he constantly has traumatizing nightmares. She beat him once until he was bloodied and unconscious and barely recovered. That psychopathic bitch even tried to rape him a few times!!! If you thought that was bad, my papa tried to report her to the police and tell other people about her, but nobody believed him and they all laughed at him every time!”

“Holy shit! That’s blood-boiling that people laughed at your Dad! Why didn’t he try to at least defend himself against that cold-hearted husbandbeater?”

Suddenly, she went onto a massive tangent and explained, “Ever heard of double standards? There are double standards defending horrific women like her, such as ‘women don’t abuse men’ or ‘men can’t defend themselves against women no matter what, that’s disrespectful’ and so much more that society defends tooth and nail with a fist of iron! Even law enforcement and the justice system feed off of these stupid rules to add insult to injury! My papa was so afraid of defending himself against that monster that he thought he would be called a wifebeater if he stood up for himself. Besides, the self-defense laws in New York are the same as those in school; if someone attacks you and you fight back in self-defense, the victim gets arrested and charged while the aggressor gets off scot-free. Thankfully around four years ago, he was able to prove how horrible his wife was, and another year later he was able to obtain custody of me and my pet ice Ninetales named Snowstorm, the mother of Snowy. But that’s not all, as that monster that I had to be forced to call my mother a month afterward falsely accused my papa of raping her, which then resulted in my papa being thrown into prison without a fair trial. It took me over a fucking year to prove his innocence, and thankfully I had some friends whose parents were cops that were super understanding and supportive of me. They were even kind enough to hire a lawyer for me so I could have a fighting chance against that berk who thought that homosexual people were the devil in disguise. To add salt to the wound, the justice system gave her a slap on the wrist and a simple restraining order against me and my papa. The fucking justice system had the audacity not to give her at least a few decades in prison despite all the evidence against her! They failed me and my papa big time! I’m still trying to prove my papa’s innocence to this day, and multiple people including a few of his ex-friends refuse to believe me! I-”

She had a sudden full stop to her rant, and she slowly put her back against the flower shop wall and slid down onto her butt, her hand on her chest and her body shaking from the fury of a thousand suns. She also put down Snowy, her face abruptly turning redder than a new Ferrari fresh out of the paint shop, tears beginning to stream down her face.

Lillie then distressfully apologized to me while covering her face, saying, “Hijo de puta… I’m so fucking sorry, Jimmy… I still have to deal with my mother’s bullshittery and it doesn’t fucking help that she knows that I’m a Non-Binary Pansexual… If only the justice system didn’t have to throw my papa into prison without him having the chance to defend himself and leave me fearing for my life against that stupid bitch FOR OVER A DAMN YEAR!” just before bursting into a fit of extreme weeping.

I blurted out, “Lillie- Y-y-you don’t have to be! I’m more than glad you told me! Thank you a lot for telling me. More people need to be educated about this.”

Shocked teenage werewolf me couldn’t help but have a mountain of sympathy for her and her father, with me kneeling and hugging her out of instinct. Lillie didn’t hesitate to return my hug, the tears relentlessly falling without mercy. Even Snowy somehow understood the whole thing, hugging her neck and letting out a saddening “Vuuulpiiiiii…” I could’ve sworn I barely understood her Pokéspeak roughly translating as “Don’t cryyyy…”

But little did I know, at a parking lot just across the street, a blacked-out 2020 Land Rover Defender as black as a moonless night parked in one of the freshly paved parking spaces, the front of the car facing towards my direction. Everything about this car was a dark yet glossy and reflective black; the bodywork, the rims, you name it (besides the headlights and tail lights). Even the windows had a very dark tint to them, more tint than legally allowed. The car was shortly put into park, and the engine was shut off a moment later.

Inside said car, the driver was a middle-aged person of French descent, with a slight hint of Russian. Their hair was more than short and a dark grey color, with a healthy dosing of glossiness to it. Their height was at maximum six foot two, and their face had a scar running diagonally across their right eye. They wore all-black clothing, including a hoodie, and gloves with red palms.

“Merde, I haven’t eaten all frickin’ day. About time I fill my stomach with something,” The mysterious deviant says to himself, reaching into a paper bag and pulling out a burrito they got from the local Chipotle.

He then takes off his gloves, revealing his slightly scarred hands. The deviant then begins to unwrap the wrapper that came with the burrito and eats, taking a big hungry bite. As he ate, he lets out a few pleasured “mmmm”’s, his seemingly insatiable hunger finally being fulfilled and his tastebuds overly satisfied.

A few bites in, he gets a phone call, the number being presented on the car’s touchscreen. Without hesitation, he puts his burrito down onto the passenger seat, takes a quick sip of his drink, and answers the phone.

He then says, “Hello, boss. How’re things?”

The person on the other line, who had a thick Italian accent and a deep-ish voice says, “Good afternoon, Reichard. I’m doing rather well. I just wanted to give you a quick call and assign you a new mission to take care of, since some information has recently come to my knowledge about a certain young individual. How long this mission will take is beyond my knowledge, but it should take at least a few weeks.”

“A new mission, huh? Sign me up. Always love a new mission to keep me busy.”

“That’s why you were the first person I contacted since I know I can count on you. The mission I want you to undertake is to stalk a certain young man named James Alpine Brookwood V and get to know as much as possible about him; where he lives, his daily life, his friends and immediate family, whatever information is graspable. The Italian-American Mafia wants him dead or alive for murdering Johnson Suntduffin.”

There was a long pause as Reichard pouted and crossed his arms, appearing physically bothered about Johnson being rightfully murdered, letting out a quiet yet disgruntled “Au diable ce putain de gamin pour avoir tué Johnson…”

The boss tries to keep Reichard on task by saying, “Listen, Reichard, I know you were close buddies with Johnson and that his death has been bothering you, but for now, I want him taken care of since he might be posing a threat to the mafia and the blowdarters I’ve just recently hired; I cannot be taking any chances. On the private and secure network, I will send you some information my servants have gathered about him to give you a head start. Beware and do not be fooled by the looks of this kid; he may look innocent, but it doesn’t excuse the fact he murdered a man, whether intentional or not. Not one bit.”

Reichard sighs and says “Sure thing, boss. I’m on it.”

“Good. Take care and good luck, Reichard. Do your best to leave no stone unturned and to think outside the box on how to find him and gather more information. I’m counting on you. Goodbye.”

The call has now come to an end.

While Reichard waited for the information about the specific individual to come through, he continued eating his burrito and decided to watch a soccer game on his phone. With every bite, every second passing, and every moment the player on the other end of the screen kicked the ball, he eagerly awaited the info, wanting to take the revenge of his lifetime.

Just when he finished his burrito, a notification comes through on his Samsung Galaxy A displaying:

Ripples: Super Secure Messaging Network For Businesses

A1. Boss has sent you a message with 21 photos attached. Click to view more…

He taps the notification and puts in his eight-pin digit to unlock the phone. The message displayed on the screen read:

“Individual’s information.

Full Legal Name:

James Alpine Brookwood V (Prefers to go by “Jimmy”)

Gender:

Male

Eye Color:

Bluish Green

Hair Color:

Ginger (Red)

Race:

White Caucasian

Age:

Not Confirmed; Approximately 14 - 18 Years Old

Target Identification Number:

#000369815

Wanted Status:

Dead Or Alive ($100,870 Reward)

Wanted For:

Murdering Johnson Suntduffin, creator of a special type of blow-dart capable of turning people into werewolves with an efficiency rate of 65%, as an act of "revenge."

Other Information:

Used to have a father that died on Friday, November 7th, 2017 at 5:47 PM. Has life-threatening food allergies. Is planning on taking an automotive-related major in college. Has been blowdarted by Johnson Suntduffin, and is a werewolf.

More information about this individual is currently in the works. Check back regularly for updates. Do not share this information with anyone without permission. Violators will be brutally prosecuted to the highest degree.”

Once he thoroughly studied all of said information, he looked at the twenty-one photos of the individual’s appearance, studying them very carefully with a Peregrine Falcon’s eye.

“Hmmm, a handsome young man I would say,” Reichard said in an almost happy and complimentary tone as he studied the pictures, which was briefly followed by him then suddenly yet sternly saying, “Doesn’t excuse the fact you murdered my closest friend.” through clenched teeth as he tightly gripped his phone.

He would then look up and around his surroundings, almost as if trying to find the individual out of frustration. But Reichard kept most of his cool, soon breathing in and out to calm himself and quenching his thirst with his drink.

“Ugh, bon song, trying to find this thorn in my side without a specific location to find him is going to be like finding a Bugatti in a land-”

To Reichard’s surprise, the nonchalant look-around for the individual was quickly met with results not even a few minutes later. He then saw someone who looked identical to the person described in the text and the pictures, who by the looks of it was trying to comfort a girl in all white.

Reichard speaks to himself curiously, “Hey, wait a minute… that kid matches the photos and descriptions a little too well. That must be the so-called ‘individual’ the boss was talking about; this young New Yorker named ‘James Brookwood.’”

He glances down at the top of his steering wheel, saying, “There’s only one obvious way to catch this imbecile. ‘Leave no stone unturned and think outside the box’ my boss said. I get leaving no stone unturned; any idiot would. I mean, who hasn’t turned over rocks to find stuff? Who knows what you’ll find?”

Without any warning, Reichard swiftly punches the touchscreen on the dashboard, almost breaking it before abruptly bellowing out in a volcanic tone, “BUT WHAT THE HELL IS ‘THINKING OUTSIDE THE BOX’ EVEN SUPPOSED TO FUCKING MEAN?! MAYBE I THINK BETTER IN THERE!!! SO MY BRAIN’S IN SOME STUPID-ASS BOX NOW?! THAT’S THE DUMBEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD!!! YOU THINK I’M SOME FUCKING IDIOT BOSS?!”

In the meantime, my mom exited the post office, seeing me comfort a Spanish girl in all white who was just recovering from having a horrible breakdown. I didn’t even notice her exit as I was so focused on comforting her and showing that I cared for her, despite just meeting her.

“Hey, Jimmy, I’ve just finished making my returns,”

Startled, I quickly got up and nervously said, “Mom I can explain. This girl was going through some tough times and whatnot-”

Mom then reassuringly replies, “You’re fine! I never said anything regarding you and that girl. I was just letting you know that I’ve finished making returns and that if you got the flowers for your Dad.”

“Sorry. I didn’t want it to seem like I was cheating on Natalie.”

“It’s perfectly ok, Jimmy. Showing others you care and comforting them is perfectly fine!”

While picking up Snowy, Lillie asks my mom, “Hold on, do you happen to work at Pleasantdale Auto? I think I saw you working on my Dad’s 2019 Honda Ridgeline for an oil change. Just curious, that’s all.”

Mom then responds, “I do. Is your dad’s name Ramón Vasconez? I’m friends with him, and I’ve heard about the troubles he had to deal with involving his wife.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Huh, I figured.” She then asked Lillie, “That’s a cute puppy you have as well. What breed is it?”

Lillie then jokingly laughs, “Silly! She’s a Pokémon, and her species is an ice Vulpix, or in other simpler terms, an ice kitsune. Her name’s Snowy, and she’s six months old.”

Snowy then happily vocalizes a happy “Vulpi!” while wagging her multiple and still developing tails.

I could tell Mom was beyond perplexed, since not many people know that Pokémon exist outside of fantasy due to how rare they are to come by. To make it even more awkward, she doesn’t know much about Pokémon or any other ones besides the commonly known electric mouse and a handful of others. Mom put a hand on her forehead in embarrassment while sighing, most likely processing the stupidity and awkwardness she felt since she thought it was a dog at first, all the while making a silly-looking face.

She sheepishly laughed for a moment. “I’m going to be honest, I thought she was a Samoyed,”

Lillie giggles back, “Don’t worry, it’s ok. I’ve encountered people that didn’t know Pokémon existed in real life. I know it’s a bit hard to process and take in. Besides, Pokémon are pretty complex creatures.”

Mom, me, and Lillie then parted ways with Mom saying, “Well, it was nice meeting you! Me and Jimmy are currently running some errands at the moment. Wishing your Dad well!”

Lillie then replied, “Thanks! Have a great day!”

Mom and I got in the car and headed off to Stop & Shop to complete the last errand of the day. While we were on our grand quest to get some groceries, we had a short and straightforward conversation about Lillie and what to plan for my up-and-coming birthday.

But unbeknownst to us, we were being watched from behind, as Reichard was driving his Defender a bit on the far side to avoid getting noticed. He waited for us to park somewhere so he could continue watching from afar.

Reichard growls, “You may be safe now, James Alpine Brookwood the fifth, but your so-called ‘revenge’ will be your downfall. Meanwhile, my long overdue revenge against your sorry ass shall be my pièce de résistance. After that, nothing shall stand in me or my boss's way, espèce de bâtard de fils de pute!!!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saturday, July 18th, 2020, 6:30 PM.

My House, Pleasantdale, New York.

Mom and I had just arrived home after an errand-filled adventure that lasted at least a few hours. I have already helped with taking the groceries from the car to the house and sorting them. We also put half of the Orange Tulips on my Dad’s gravestone in remembrance of him, and Mom gave me the job of putting the other half of them onto the driver’s side of Dad’s Corvette and touching the car up if need be.

Orange Tulips in one hand and Dad’s Corvette keys in the other, I slowly walked over to the small yet custom garage where Dad would always care for, tune-up, and store his Corvette. I was doing everything I could mentally to prepare myself for a tsunami of emotions. But unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, I’m always proven unprepared due to how heart-shattering his loss was.

I lifted the cover to the garage pin pad and inserted the pin to open up the garage door, my index finger pressing the squishy silicone buttons.

“1-9-0-7-5”

“Enter”

The garage door motor sparkled to life, slowly yet crankily lifting the robust door and gently revealing my Dad’s Corvette like a grandiose reveal to a next-generation hypercar, which was a brilliant yet glossy red color with a custom Snap-On livery that had some sponsors and brands on it.

Not long passes and the motor stops, fully revealing the homologated car and the garage it comfortably resided in, without a doubt missing the owner who initially gave it a second lease on life; my Dad treated this car like it was his baby and was indescribably proud of it. I stared blankly at the car, almost dropping the flowers from how deep in thought I was about my Dad and the memories surrounding this car.

I snap out of it, turning on the fluorescent light, the strip of light struggling for a fleeting moment before finally flickering on and letting out a comforting buzz while flooding the garage with a cool, white light. For some reason, I also shut the garage door behind me, the motor sparkling as it slowly dropped the door down for a few moments before shutting off again, muffling the outside world.

The surrounding atmosphere was nothing short of quiet and nostalgic in both painful and comforting ways. I took a brief look and walked around the small, custom garage, seeing the Snap-On cabinets, the computer equipment, the shelves lined with all sorts of automotive products, the glossy white floor with colorful specks of blue and red in it, the whole nine miles. I admired his car with trickling tears, too; the glistening paint, the bodywork, the sponsors and brands that adorned the car, the homologated yet street-legal interior, the roll cage, everything.

The top of the safety net on the driver’s side was carefully unstrapped and gently draped onto the side of the door. My hand with the Orange Tulips reached in and tenderly placed them onto the bucket seat.

“I got you some new flowers, Dad,” I softly spoke as if he was still with me.

“They’re your favorite kind, Orange Tulips. I laid some on your gravestone as well.”

I came over to the passenger side, unlocked the door, and sat in the passenger-side bucket seat while closing the door. Looking over at the driver’s side, call me crazy all you damn want, but I could sense Dad’s soul sitting with me, desperately wanting to give me one last ride. I felt his presence inside said car, a comforting presence you would feel when someone who cared the world about you was in the same space. Tears rolled down my face like a gentle stream, and it became nearly impossible to swallow. Memories and nostalgia, comforting, heartwarming, melancholic, and hurtful alike, brutally drowned out any other intrusive thought that dared try and interrupt my moment of remembrance.

I couldn’t fucking hold it in anymore. I let it all out, me bursting into tears and ugly crying into my shaky palms, just wishing this could be easier to deal with. To make the loss even heavier, the person responsible for the hit-and-run never was caught; essentially, they’re still gracing this planet without caring or bothering to have enough guilt to turn themselves in. They unfairly got away with murder, with no hope of consequences or karma catching up to them to give them hell. Well, I hope they got hit with a fatal dose of karma sometime afterward.

My hands were soon soaked with tears, seeping through my fingers and dripping into my lap and the bucket seat I sat on. Staying here for what feels like forever never was a part of my intentions, but at the same time, just dropping off flowers and leaving didn’t feel right. The only objective was to come here to give some flowers in memory of him, but being sucked into staying and grieving over the loss was the ultimate result without fail. A constant yet haunting aura to keep in place just a minute longer beckoned with memories that’ll eventually erode into the sands of time. The continuous reminder that Dad was nothing more than a memory, slowly fading into a void of oblivion with no hope of return or renewal, silently yet deafeningly echoed within the garage’s atmosphere and the car’s interior.

Not meaning to sound offensive, but there are going to be some people out there that’ll say, “Oh, suck it up. Nothing lasts forever. That’s just life for you. Man up you weak wimp and accept your loss.” First of all, shut the fuck up and take a good hard moment to rethink what you just said. Second, what do you know about losing someone who meant the entire world to you at a young age? It’s one thing to lose them when you’re older due to old age or some other cause, but you still had at least decades to make the most out of the time they had left. But yes, it still can hurt losing them.

On the other hand, when you think about it, losing them when you’re not even a legal adult is more than sad and heartbreaking; the potential time you could’ve used to make more memories and make the most of it is suddenly ripped from your arms, and insultingly ripped up and rendered beyond repair right in front of you. Fourteen years may seem long in the relentless game that is life, but making the most with your friends and family feels way too short, and in a sense, it is; once they’re gone, they’re gone forever. If the opportunity to spend more time with my Dad were given to me, in a heartbeat the entire stock would’ve been taken without question or a guaranteed refund. But as heartbreaking as it is, at the end of the day, life is never fair to anyone, no matter how gifted, talented, innovative, or whatever it may be to someone. And third, just remember this quote for next time:

“Hurting someone can be as easy as throwing a stone in the ocean, but do you have any idea how deep down that stone can go?”

Without warning, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Wiping the tears I had cried from my hands onto my pants, I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. The notification that was displayed on my phone read:

A1. Mom (ICE)

“You doing ok?”

I unlock my phone and reply, “Yes, just cried my eyes out. I need a moment longer.”

Mom > “Awww, I understand. Take your time. It hurts for me just as much as it hurts for you.”

Me > “Thank you for understanding.”

Mom > “Of course, sweetie! Let me know if you need anything else.”

Me > "Ok."

Mom > “Btw, I’m about to cook pork chops for dinner. I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”

Me > “Alright.”

Another text message swiftly follows, this time from Natalie.

“Heyo! If you have time tonight, wanna meet my older brother? His name is Dustin, and he’s a HUGE car fanatic. Plus, he drives and races cars for a living. But, if you don’t have any time tonight or until your birthday, that’s fine; I can always introduce you to him on that day instead. So, what do you think, Weather Boy?”

Guilt kept me prisoner in Dad’s beloved little garage every time I thought of leaving, but I soon concluded that staying here forever would not change anything.

Me > “Sure! Imma go have dinner real quick and see if Mom can let me go. Besides, I need something to do to get my mind off my Dad’s passing.”

Natalie > “I have wanted to ask about your Dad lately, but I didn’t know if it would bother you.”

Me > “It’s a hard story to tell, but I just want to get it off my chest. I’ll tell you it sometime later.”

Natalie > “That’s fair. When do you want us to pick you up? Does 7:00 PM work?”

Me > “Yeah.”

Natalie > “Alrighty then, let me know, and we’ll come over! I can tell you’re gonna love him.”

Me > “I’m sure I will. ;)”

Natalie > “<3”

While putting my phone into my pocket, I stared at the driver’s seat one last time, my tears running dry.

“I hate to say this, Dad, but… I have to go; I can’t stay here forever as rude as that sounds. I’m sorry… Please forgive me…”

Slowly opening the door and getting up to leave was the hardest thing to do; Guilt always tugs at my tail whenever I try. Mustering enough strength, I slowly unlocked the Corvette door and carefully got out while closing it behind me. The car was then locked for security reasons, the custom electronically powered door locks going “click-knn!” and the car going “dwoop-dwoop!” Not to mention, I also carefully fixed the driver-side safety net as I found it.

The translucent neon-green garage door button was clicked, making the motor scintillate again and slowly bring the door back up, revealing the outside world as the golden light of a summer afternoon gently flooded the garage. I turned off the garage light and sluggishly walked outside. Pressing the squishy “Enter” button, the garage motor sparkled one last time, unhurriedly dropping the door down. Within a few moments, the Corvette became slowly hidden in the garage, protected from the elements and peacefully resting until the day its decided to be taken out for a special occasion.

Figuring that I might’ve consumed an unhealthy amount of time just placing flowers in Dad’s racecar, I walk back to my house, softly saying into the summer breeze, “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll be sure to follow in your footsteps… I promise I won’t ever forget you or your dreams…”

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Saturday, July 18th, 2020, 7:03 PM.

My House, Pleasantdale, New York.

So, let me get this straight; who’s this “Dustin” guy, Natalie’s older brother?

He’s a car fanatic like me and also RACES cars like my Dad used to?

If that’s the case, then I’m thrilled to be in a race car once more; I haven’t experienced the exhilarating feeling of riding in a race car that’s being pushed to its absolute limits in years! The crazy G-forces from the turns, the insane speeds and acceleration, the monstrous roar of fire-breathing engines, the damn list goes on longer than a CVS receipt. There’s going to be a Noah’s-Ark level tsunami of memories coming my way, that’s for sure.

Having finished my dinner and my Mom thankfully letting me go, I went to the little brick wall between the driveway and the street and sat down at the end of it, a beige-colored concrete median where the road and my driveway meet up. While the waiting game was played on my part, to keep myself company, I admired my surroundings.

The outdoors was teaming with life, beckoning with its irresistible sights and sounds. The beautiful evening sky was a perfect yet benevolent shade of blue, with the setting sun wrapped up in skies filled with colorful shades of gold and orange. Cicadas could be heard with their nostalgic shrilling cries filling the summer air, alongside birds chirping and singing their lovely songs in trees bursting with brilliant yet floral green leaves. As the sun set, it shed its golden light onto everything outside like a shower of glowing gold, settling in even more nostalgia with an atmosphere that could be felt in a Hollywood movie. My nose was hastily flooded with the unforgettable yet sentimental smell of summer; floral scents, smells from the trees, and numerous other fresh aromas teaming up together. Last but not least, the occasional deer, bunny, bird, and even a wild Buneary could also be seen roaming around the summer scene in my backyard at the side of my house, which had a small gazebo and a birdbath.

Out of nowhere, the peaceful moment of bliss with mother nature was disturbed by the sound of a loud, growly yet hefty-sounding V8. Startled and looking to my left, I saw a black early 2010’s Chevrolet Camaro with two orange stripes running down the middle, driving down the street and towards my house. I then stood up and looked into the car's windshield, trying to see who was driving the whip; there was no possible way this was Natalie’s brother!

…Oh, but now that I think about it, if he races cars for a living, the possibility of Dustin having a badass everyday driver isn’t too far-fetched.

*Cue the guitar riff from AC/DC’s “Back In Black”*

A moment later, the Camaro in question stopped right next to me, my heart racing like a formula one engine with the throttle wide open. The car’s tinted windows then were slowly rolled down, revealing the driver, a stunning guy with curly blonde hair wearing a sick black hat with a Koenigsegg Agera RS1 on the front of it. He’s most likely the kind of guy to make any girl faint from how hot he looked by doing a simple wink and finger gesture.

The dude then exclaimed to me in the most thrill-inducing voice on the fucking planet, “Ey bud! You must be that Jimmy kid Natalie kept on telling me about! I’m Dustin. Nice to meet ya!” Natalie, who was in the back of the car, followed suit saying, “Hey Weather Boy!”

“Hey, Dustin! You are correct; I am that Jimmy kid! Sweet set of wheels, by the way! You must have many people wanting to take a photo with you and your car!” I replied, shocked beyond words, with my hands shaking slightly from excitement.

“Thanks, bro! Well, if my ride is that rad, then what are you waiting for? Hop in!”

With a gigantic smile spanning ten miles, I ran over to the passenger side and opened the door, with Dustin putting down the seat, so getting into the back was a piece of old tackle. Sitting beside Natalie and excitedly buckling up, I asked Dustin, "Where are we heading?"

Without hesitation, he responded, “To the Automotive Raceway Of Cranecrest! There’s a car meetup with my friends and my automotive group!”

“What kind of cars are there?”

“Exotics, classics, imports, limited editions, a whole salad bowl of different cars! Trust me, you’re gonna LOVE it!”

My eyes lit up like fireworks during the fourth of July, pupils dilating to extreme proportions and skin developing fierce goosebumps. Dustin, if the car meet is as lit as you hyped it up to be, sign me up god dammit!

“So, how ‘bout it Jim-Jims? You ready to see some of the sickest rides in New York?”

“Hell yeah I am!”

“Welp, let’s not waste any more time, then!”

Dustin revved the engine a few times, the beastly and muscular V8 letting out a furious, adrenaline-injecting roar nearly capable of making the ground shake. The Camaro was then put into drive, and off we went to the raceway, the sound of American freedom screaming from the engine, blasting through the exhaust system, and right into the summer air while echoing into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Saturday, July 18th, 2020, 7:16 PM.

AROC, Cranecrest, New York.

Here we are.

Automotive Raceway Of Cranecrest.

Home to cars from all drives of life; from your average production sedan having its performance tested before its production starts, to monstrous track-day beasts like LeMans Prototypes and F1 cars seismically ripping across the turns and straights, setting record lap times.

This racetrack has seen all sorts of cars from around the world, that’s for sure.

Dustin drove the growly Camaro to the hidden private entrance meant for race cars to come into and stopped at a gate with a guard person inside a little booth. Dustin placed his special keycard onto the plastic, black card scanner right on the booth ledge, making it beep and turning the light on it from red to neon green. Moments later, the red and white traffic control arm gate moved up so Dustin could drive through, followed by the guard person making a thumbs up and saying, “Have fun, Dustin.” Dustin then looked behind and gave us a playful wink, saying, “Prepare your cameras and your phone storage, ‘cus you’ll love these cars.~”

The area behind the track was where the trucks with the race cars would park, not to mention the entrance into the racetrack itself. A little tunnel went underneath the stands and down a little road just before entering the middle of the track where the camper vans would hang out. Finally, the little road met with the pits, where the car meetup in question was located.

*Cue the first verse of Six Days (Remix) by DJShadow, which was being played from the pitstop speakers*

It wasn’t even a second when we entered the pits, and I already saw some mind-blowing cars you wouldn’t see every day; cars such as JDM imports like Nissan R33 GTRs, Toyota Supras, and Mazda RX-7s, to extreme exotics such as a Ford GT, a Bugatti EB110, a Pagani Zonda, and even a couple of Koenigsegg Regeras! Goosebumps and chills occupied my body like never before, my heart and mind racing in excitement as my eyes sparkled with amazement. I couldn’t help but put my face against the glass with my mouth agape and my expression ecstatic, much like a little kid looking into the window of a gift shop during the Christmas holiday. Of course, Natalie noticed this, and she couldn’t help but giggle like a mischievous fox planning its heist on an unsuspecting animal stocking for the winter.

“Dustin, I think Jimmy is speechless right now. I think you broke his automotive brain with the exotic cars!” Natalie laughed.

Dustin looked back briefly at me and then said while laughing his ass off, “You loving it so far, JimJims? You must be STARSTRUCK by the looks of it!”

I couldn’t help but respond ecstatically, “Are you kidding me, Dustin?! This is THE BEST car meet I have ever been to!!!”

“Heh, I knew I could tickle your automotive side,”

Dustin says, “We can go a few laps around the track half an hour from now if that’s what you fancy. Bet you’ll love the thrill of racing around the track!”

For some reason, Dustin saying that triggered a few flashbacks that reminded me of Dad and how he would take me to all sorts of racetracks with him so we could go a few laps. The most memorable track we went on was a track that was just a few miles outside of NYC, and on Fridays after school, we would go there to race with some of his other racing friends in the Snap-On-Mobile. It has been years since we last went to that track, and unfortunately, the race track went out of business in late 2017 right after Dad died, not to mention Dad’s friend group breaking up and going separate ways shortly after. Since then, the track has been left to mother nature’s devices, rotting and eroding while growing weeds and getting cracks in the pavement as the years somberly passed. I don’t exactly remember what the track was called, but someday when I’m older, I’ll probably pay it a visit when nobody’s looking and just cherish the memories I have left.

I never noticed it, but my cheery-starstruck expression was instantly wiped away and replaced by a rather woebegone one with mournful undertones. Dustin, including Natalie saw this and he asked me in a caring manner, “You ok, Jimmy? Did something I say bother you?”

“I’m alright; I would love to go for a few laps. Nothing you said bothered me; it’s just that you asking for a couple of laps reminded me of my Dad, who was killed in a hit-and-run accident. I haven’t experienced the thrill of racing ever since his passing. It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Oh, jeez. I’m sorry to hear. You can tell me more later tonight when I drop you off. How’s that sound, bud?”

“I could do that; maybe you might know him. But, for now, I don’t want to ruin the moment, not meaning to sound rude. I’m sorry.”

“Listen, you’re totally fine, my guy. We all have our moments. Take your time; we have all night. We can take things easy if that’s what you prefer.”

Out of nowhere, Natalie unbuckled her seatbelt and gave me a big and comforting hug. Her doing this shocked me for some reason; most other girlfriends would just either laugh it off or, at the very least, have a little sympathy for their boyfriends, not meaning to sound offensive. Her doing this made my eyes boil with tears, the saline-like liquid trickling down my face as I returned her hug with an even tighter hug, her patting my back and gently rocking my body to comfort me.

As me and Natalie hugged it out, Dustin got to his parking spot, put the Camaro into reverse gear, and carefully parallel-parked into his assigned area. He then shut off the engine, the growly V8 shortly stopping and coming to rest, followed by the car chiming.

As Dustin got his car ready for showing off (such as putting up the engine hood and whatnot), Natalie soothingly told me, “We all have our days, Jimmy, like the other night and day revolving around that party. You’re totally fine. Just don’t dwell on it too much.”

I somberly reply, “You’re right; just dwelling on it isn’t going to solve things. But the thing about it… is that whenever I try to take my mind off it or move on from it, I always get this guilt that I can’t describe when I try to do so.”

“There’s no need to be guilty. You’re being too hard on yourself. I get it; letting go can be hard. The only way forward is moving forward. It’s perfectly fine to have brief and annual remembrance of him, but your obsession over his loss seems to be taking over you the moment it locks onto you, if not extremely toxic to your well-being. It’s similar to a Tesla valve in a sense; it’s easy doing one thing repeatedly, but doing the opposite and deviating from it is exhausting and difficult to do.”

“I know, Natalie. I want to let go of it all, but guilt always consumes me, and the cycle repeats.”

“Listen, I understand; I lost my grandparents about a year ago and was dealing with the same thing as you. It was beyond difficult to let go and not let it consume me, but eventually, I taught myself not to dwell on it or let it take over my life. It’s one thing to mourn the loss of a loved one, but when it interferes with your life, things need to change.”

While smiling, I say, “Thank you for understanding, Natalie.”

“Anytime. Just know I care a lot about you, just as you care a lot about me.” Natalie replied, giving me a comforting kiss on my cheek, making me blush.

I wiped my tears away and mustered a fake-ish smile while saying, “I can talk all about it when we get back home. For now, let’s see some wicked rides together.”

“That’s the spirit, Jimmy! Let’s do this.”

Natalie and I then scootched through the small interior of the Camaro and exited out the driver’s side, putting the seat back up and closing the door. We then went down pit lane together, taking photos of the cars at the meet. In the meantime, Dustin met with one of his friends, dapping him up and doing a bro-hug.

Meanwhile, on a gravel parking area that overlooks the town, located right next to a windy road that goes down the hill and to Cranecrest, the blacked-out 2020 Land Rover Defender from earlier was parked, stalking its future victim without anyone suspecting a thing. Reichard was inside said SUV, observing me from afar with binoculars.

“It appears Mr. Brookwood has a friend of sorts, possibly a girlfriend,” Reichard says to himself, continuing to watch my every move without me even knowing.

“But needing to learn how to get more info about him properly and how to capture him is going to be the flour that holds this damn baguette that is Operation Rocket together.”

An idea popped into his brain, an imaginary lightbulb flickering to life within him. He quickly put down his binoculars and opened the notes app on his phone. He pondered for a transitory moment, trying to figure out different information that could prove helpful in capturing James Brookwood and making sure he was no longer a threat. And so, Reichard began typing away, fingers seemingly yet quickly disappearing into a blurred frenzy.

Not long later, the furious brainstorm-to-notepad session came to a halt like a car slamming on the brakes to avoid crashing into a brake checker. He looks it over a few times, removing some things and tweaking other things, not to mention adding others that came to mind. The final layout of information that he thought would be helpful on the notepad read:

“Info to look out for regarding James A. Brookwood V (aka Target Identification Number: #000369815)

Location Of Residence

Current School Of Attendance

Relationship Status

Height

Weight

Date Of Birth / Age

Social Security Number

Preferred Sexuality

Sexual Orientation

Immediate Family Members (including their info)

Friends (including their info)

Phone Numbers

Email Addresses

Werewolf Type

Driver’s License Number

Health/Medical Records

Addresses Of Friends And Family

Social Media Accounts

Hobbies

20. Daily Schedule

21. Affiliations

22. Health Issues / Complications (if any)

23. Neurodiversities

24. Biometric Data

25. Criminal Records

26. IP Addresses

27. Device Serial Numbers

28. Religious Or Philosophical Beliefs

29. Current Employer

30. Observational Information (Such as pictures and voice recordings)

31. Cognitive Abilities

32. Mental Health History And Disorders

Add other PII’s if need be. Ask other mafia members for any info they know with Boss’s consent. If any new information arises, write them down / save them until able to exchange with Boss. Be as stealthy as humanly possible. Try to have people who know or are close to the individual to gather information without the individual knowing. Press their friends or family to cough up information if the opportunity arises. Research information online if possible. Attempt to tap into individual’s phone and record any phone calls to ensure what their voice sounds like. Update this notepad if any new techniques or other types of PII’s come to mind.

Reichard Mangeurpain.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, excessive much?” You might be wondering.

To the average person wanting to take revenge or wanting to know about someone, yeah; I’d say it’s pretty psychotic.

On the other paw, to a member of the mafia, it’s a no-brainer critical procedure to eradicate any threat that dares try to so at least take down or expose any part of the criminal organization (especially the boss’s identity), whether it was an intentional act or a completely innocent mistake someone stumbled upon.

Reichard thinks, “I believe I went a little overboard…”

“...Doesn’t matter. The more info, the better. It’s going to be hard as hell getting information about him, but in the end, it’ll be worth it not only for my craving for revenge but for the safety of Operation Rocket.”

Shutting off his phone and putting it aside, he picked up his binoculars and spotted me again. This time, Natalie, Dustin and I were heading back into the Camaro. Moments later, the engine started as indicated by the daytime headlights turning on. Then the Camaro gently cruised from the pits toward the track's starting line.

The Camaro slowly crept towards the checkered starting line, the engine growling and hungrily begging to be fed copious amounts of fuel like a hungry wolf. Once the starting line came out of Dustin’s view, he gently pressed on the brakes, the car leisurely yet menacingly coming to a stop.

Dustin looks back at me and says, “You ready to feel what it’s like to race around a track once again?”

Me, who was starting to shake in excitement with a wave of nostalgia rushing through my body, replied, “Hell yeah!!! Can’t wait to experience the thrill after so long!”

“Welp, buckle the heck up and hang on, as this is gonna be an extreme ride!!! Oh, let’s also put on some sick tunes while we’re at it,”

Dustin did some fiddling with his phone, and also made some audio adjustments on the custom sound system. He then tapped on the screen one last time and placed his phone in the cupholder. A second later, a song called “Sleepwalk” by Audiovox began to blast on the car’s speakers.

Oooh, got a taste in the ’80s, huh? Sweet stuff, Dustin! Now that I think about it, I can understand why Brian has such a sweet tooth for retro stuffs.

Dustin suddenly revved the engine, the burly freedom-screaming V8 roaring like a furious dragon, barely close to being loud enough to compete with the music to see who was more vociferous. I could feel the engine's unadulterated power with each monstrous rev, the vibrations from the sheer power booming throughout the car.

“Alright, you two! HOLD ONTO YOUR BUTTS!!!”

Dustin slammed on the throttle without warning, the tires squealing as Natalie and I were pressed into our seats. As the rear tires struggled to gain traction, they burned lots of rubber, putting on a spectacular yet rubbery-smelling smoke show. Once the Camaro gained traction, it began to scream through the gears, with Dustin shifting through them like an unrivaled boss. My heart raced like a top fuel dragster full-sending it down the quarter mile, flames spitting out from a pissed-off eleven-horsepower engine that could only see red like a flamethrower.

Dustin raced through the corners with monster-truck force, the tires screaming and screeching for mercy as he hugged the turns. The engine bellowed with fiery fury on the straights, demanding to be fed more and more fuel to satiate its thirst for power. The Camaro pulled some serious G-forces on the turns, enough to make me feel as if I was gonna get flung out. I could not stop smiling from feeling the thrill of racing again after so long, laughing and having the time of my fucking life. Natalie was enjoying the thrill-inducing joyride as well, happy to see me happy.

“You having fun there JimJims?” Dustin yelled.

I reply with glee, “Hell yeah! Yeeehawww!!!”

“I knew from the start you’d love this! Wanna do some more?”

“Why would I say no?! Sign me up!”

Dustin then exclaims as he punched the throttle, “Alrighty then! Let’s petal to the metal!”

“He’s going the distance,

He’s going for speed…

…Because he's racing and pacing and plotting the course,

He's fighting and biting and riding on his horse…”

- From the rock song “The Distance” by Cake.

I wish you were here with me, Dad; You’d love this as much as you loved seeing me smile and be happy. Being in a car ripping around the track at extreme speeds, although exhilarating, just doesn’t feel the same without you. Yes, the feeling of being in a racecar pushing the limits makes my spirit soar like a free bird, but nowadays, things just feel… different. You showed me the exciting world of automotive and racing and even gave me the exact thrilling sensation of knowing that there are no rules restricting you or your car and taking it to the limits. The race track made us and our Corvette feel as unrestrained as horses running in fields of freedom. It’s what we and the car community call home. It unites us. Differences are put aside, and everyone is like a big, happy family. Although there’s competition, there’s always the friendships and the memories we make as we race down the road of life.

To be honest, I never had this much fun in quite some time. Hanging out with your friends and making memories during the moment is the ideal thing to do, primarily because nothing lasts forever in the endless march of time. Sometimes I relate to hanging out with friends as the gift that keeps giving. But, unfortunately, at times, that ability is unintentionally taken for granted. You know the quote, “Spend every day like it’s you’re last?” I do. That quote applies to hanging out with friends and family; nobody knows when you’ll say the last goodbye or see your friends for the last time. It’s rather scary if you take the time to think about it…

I miss you, Dad. I’ll do whatever it takes to fulfill your legacies. Your automotive journey didn’t end when you died, rather, it will live on inside me with a new lease on life. Trust me, I will one day reignite the burning flame of automotive racing in the Brookwood bloodline, and (maybe) make history in the process. Some sunny day I will…

…I promise.

As Reichard observed me through his binoculars, he says, “Whatever James is doing with his friends seems very fun, I must say. I kinda wish I could take a joyride in a sports car like a Porsche,”

“...But there’s more important things to focus on. I’ll eventually get that dirty-ass rat by his tail and make him pay for what he did to my beloved friend.”

Without warning, a feeling of rage filled him as he remembered hearing about the loss of his partner. He slowly held his binoculars with increasing amounts of grip, a sight of red gradually taking over his vision. Eventually, the amount of anger and hatred towards me would come to a point of boiling over.

It hasn’t even been fifteen seconds, and the fury within him came to a breaking point, him suddenly exclaiming out in unhealthy amounts of ill-temper, “I swear, James Brookwood, once I know everything about you, YOU ARE DEAD MEAT! YOU HEAR ME YOU MEDDLING COCK SUCKING WASTE OF SPACE?!”

He would without thinking punch the touchscreen of his car while screaming “DEAD!!! MEAT!!!” making the touchscreen glitch out a bit before returning back to normal.

Then the mindless ranting that he would usually do when in a blinding rage started, “JE VAIS TE FAIRE EMBRASSER MON CUL DE FRANÇAIS ET TE FORCER À REGARDER TOUS TES AMIS ET TA FAMILLE SE FAIRE TORTURER!!! JE VAIS TE FAIRE REGRETTER CHAQUE DÉCISION QUE TU AS PRISE DANS TA VIE PATHÉTIQUE!!! UNE FOIS QUE J'AURAI CAPTURÉ TON CUL DÉSOLÉ, SI JAMAIS TU ES EN VIE QUAND JE LE FAIS, TU VAS ENVIER CE PUTAIN DE PÉDÉ MORT ET SUCEUR DE BITE!!!”

Before Reichard knew it, his red vision dissipated, but he still had rage left within him. Hands shaking, breath ragged, and mind racing a mile a second, he took a moment to recollect himself. Taking slow deep breaths, he attempted to calm himself down, a few moments later his behavior back to a normal equilibrium.

“Every moment you aren’t running, James A. Brookwood V, I’ll only be getting closer. You keep that at the top of your thoughts, bucko. Pretty soon, the predator will eventually catch his prey. After that, Operation Rocket will prevail without mercy!!!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Thursday, July 23rd, 2020, 9:30 PM.

[Undisclosed location in Catskill Mountains, New York].

In a secret facility around two hours from where James Brookwood lives, Reichard sits at a table, pondering how else he could easily catch his prey. He seemed to be not so confident if he had the strength to follow through with this galaxy-level opportunity, but at the same time, his desire for revenge burned like a magnesium fire, trying to fuel his drive to carry that inclination out.

The facility unit Reichard currently resided in was a cafeteria of sorts, with the primary colors being grey for the floors, a dark blue wall that also outlined the floor near the walls, and a colorless yet metallic ceiling you typically would find in a warehouse of sorts; air vents, pipes, industrial fans and lights, you probably get the idea (assuming you were in a warehouse before). Many circular dark blue lunch tables with seats built into them populated the department. A few very luminous warehouse lights lit up the cafeteria from above, just enough to make it suitable to see, but sit rather dim compared to when the area is open. Although the faint wooshing and blowing of the air system could be softly heard, the quietness was so deafening a pin dropping could be heard if one were paying close attention.

The surrounding area was nothing short of lonely but incredibly peaceful all at the same time, possibly even liminal for some. For Reichard, the cafeteria outside business hours was his go-to spot for deep thinking and brainstorming or just a classic alone-time session, out of sight and out of mind from other residents at said facility.

He quietly thinks to himself, “Although catching this retched fool is crucial to ensure the safety of Operation Rocket, I’d rather know a shitton about him before closing in for the capture; it’s better to get info when the target isn’t aware of the stalker watching them rather than pressing them head-on. Main reason for this is to make sure if he ever escapes the facility when we do capture and deal with him, we can always rely on our info like a little sidekick.”

The overly-French man looks back at the plans he wrote down in his digital notepad, and then at the text message with the starter pack of information the boss gave him. He couldn’t help but switch over them, one after the other, two and fro.

Eventually, one particular piece of info just stuck to him like adhesive, one that he cannot get over.

“Individual’s information.

Full Legal Name:

James Alpine Brookwood V (Prefers to go by “Jimmy”)

Gender:

Male

Eye Color:

Bluish Green

Hair Color:

Ginger (Red)

Race:

White Caucasian

Age:

Not Confirmed; Approximately 14 - 18 Years Old

Target Identification Number:

#000369815

Wanted Status:

Dead Or Alive ($100,870 Reward)

Wanted For:

Murdering Johnson Suntduffin, creator of a special type of blow-dart capable of turning people into werewolves with an efficiency rate of 65%, as an act of "revenge."

Other Information:

Used to have a father that died on Friday, November 7th, 2017 at 5:47 PM. Has life-threatening food allergies. Is planning on taking an automotive-related major in college. Has been blowdarted by Johnson Suntduffin, and is a werewolf.

More information about this individual is currently in the works. Check back regularly for updates. Do not share this information with anyone without permission. Violators will be brutally prosecuted to the highest degree.”

“Wanted For:

Murdering Johnson Suntduffin, creator of a special type of blow-dart capable of turning people into werewolves with an efficiency rate of 65%, as an act of ‘revenge.’”

“Wanted For:

Murdering Johnson Suntduffin…

…as an act of ‘revenge.’”

“Murdering Johnson Suntduffin…

…act of ‘revenge.’”

“Johnson Suntduffin…

…‘revenge’”

“Johnson…”

All the anger he used to have whenever the death of Johnson was brought up or reminded, for some reason, just didn’t brew within him like it always did; perhaps he had no more anger left to use as fuel for his anger issues. Whenever Reichard got angry, he would always regret not staying in anger management classes, as losing a friend (or in this case a very close one) to a murderer can without a sliver of a doubt be angering to many.

Or maybe his ability to be angry was all burnt-out; dead and dry.

A well with no water.

A giving tree with nothing to give.

A classroom with nothing to teach.

A farm with no crops.

A home without family.

Nothing was left in the volcano that is his insatiable fury; it was all erupted out.

“I remember meeting that Aussie gentleman as if it was yesterday…” Reichard contemplates and thinks to himself, an imaginary film projector whirring to life in his head.

………5………4………3………2………………………

[VHS_TAPE_NAME.REICHARD_S_FLASHBACK]

[START_OF_TAPE]

It all started in August of last year; I was nearing twenty years of working at [REDACTED], but I just call it “The Facility” since I thought it was easier to say than the original name.

Although I don’t exactly remember the actual date this happened, I do remember sorting cartel supplies and then packaging them to be loaded into trucks, occasionally helping out the truck loaders and exchanging small talk, a few months before I was introduced to this entire “blowdart” concept.

Then came lunch, and I usually just sit alone, away from others since I was rather introverted and didn’t have the confidence to hang out in large groups. The main reason why is kinda fuzzy in my head since it was all forgotten about when the friend of a lifetime came along and changed all that, but it’s most likely due to the fact large crowds or groups made me unsettled and not think the straightest.

[INTITIATE_EVIDENCE_PRESENTATION_NUMBER_001]

As I was eating lunch, this one Australian gentleman came over to my table, and sat down next to me. I recall being rather nervous since I haven’t known him well let alone known him at all, despite me knowing most of the people working at the facility. The young fellow introduced himself to me as “Johnson Suntduffin,” a twenty-seven-year-old folk with a certain charm to him, some sort of charismatic aura surrounding him; his energy was able to make a room full of pure depression into one of seemingly infinite euphoria just by walking into said room.

…I’m exaggerating. But you get what I mean.

I would receive word about a week or so later that he was a newcomer to [REDACTED].

It took me a moment to introduce myself. Keep in mind I was rather introverted in nature, especially around people I don’t know well, or when it comes to meeting people for the first time. Despite me being rather nervous about introducing myself, something about him told me not to worry and just to take things slow.

After I introduced myself to him, we decided to have a lengthy yet profoundly productive conversation. What this conversation was about is mostly lost to forgetfulness within my memory, but one part of the conversation struck out to me. I can recall almost all of the conversation I had with him.

[END_OF_EVIDENCE]

It started off with me saying something like “...going crazy on the throttle like a werewolf during a full moon.” or something of that. We were talking about cars and stuff of that nature, but the details before that aren’t too clear.

[INTITIATE_EVIDENCE_PRESENTATION_NUMBER_002]

“Oh, speaking of werewolves, I do have a certain, intangible fascination with them. Their nature is without a doubt not only supernatural but is intriguing to the world of science and biology.”

At first, I was taken aback by what words just escaped his mouth. Yet for some reason, something in me wanted to know more about why he had this fascination. The conversation that then followed was one of the most interesting, intriguing, and most importantly, unforgettable topics/conversations I ever had with someone.

I asked him, “What about werewolves fascinate you?”

He responds, “It’s mainly the science behind how werewolf genetics work, and how a seemingly simple ray of sunshine reflected off the moon’s surface can transform a person from a human to a muscular and fearsome beast within moments. There’s a lot of complexity to how werewolves work, and although they have been studied for centuries, dating back to as early as the 12th century, it still baffles scientists and biologists to this day. Currently, there is no concrete explanation or understanding of how lycanthropy functions.”

I was confused when he said the last two sentences.

“...although they have been studied for centuries, dating back to as early as the 12th century, it still baffles scientists and biologists to this day. Currently, there is no concrete explanation or understanding of how lycanthropy functions.”

Wait a second. Is he saying that scientists and biologists are ACTUALLY studying a myth? No, hold on a moment. Does he mean to tell me they ACTUALLY existed once before?

To the average person, they would not help but be beyond perplexed.

I would then tentatively ask him, “So you’re telling me that werewolves exist in real life? If so, are there any instances?”

Boy, did Johnson not take a moment of hesitation to respond back; the answer he gave back was nothing short of breathtaking in a fascinatingly-morbid way.

“People tend to say that werewolves are nothing but storytime and Hollywood-famous myths; however, they did exist many hundreds of years ago outside of fantasy. They do exist, there just hasn’t been a report of werewolfism since 1760. There was one infamous event nearly half a millennium ago that turned thousands of people into werewolves, an event nicknamed “The Werewolf Uprising.” A cult in Romania back in 1530 that went by the name “Subversiunea Licantropului” spiked the drinks and foods of unsuspecting residents, causing many, many people to become lycanthropes. Nobody knows just how many people consumed the contaminated products, but it is estimated that around 25,000 people had consumed at least one product that was contaminated. Out of those people, 8750 of them became lycanthropes, so it is estimated that whatever technique or substance they were using had an efficiency rate of approximately thirty-five percent. The cult would do this for nearly a year before they were then caught and tortured to their deaths for their witchcraft-esk crimes.”

[END_OF_EVIDENCE]

“Impressive knowledge about werewolves and their history,” most people would say.

For me, it was more than impressive; words cannot describe how mindblown I was.

The need to know more controlled my mind and my instincts; I craved to ask what other information he had in stock.

[INTITIATE_EVIDENCE_PRESENTATION_NUMBER_003]

I couldn’t help but ask, “What kind of substance were they using?”

“Only about a few million people on this planet have heard of a key component used in substances that could turn people into lycanthropes. Ever heard of a natural chemical substance called ‘Lycanthropium?’”

Shaking my head no, the question “What the heck is that?” was said.

“Glad you asked, Reichard. Lycanthropium is an organic chemical substance that can be found mainly in Canine and Lupine animal and Pokémon species. They can also be found in other closely related species, such as foxes and hyenas for example, but found in way less quantities within them. In raw form, it is a reddish-black powder, with a slight metallic taste to it. However, in its purest form, it is a dull, pinkish-grey powder with a taste similar to diphenhydramine (a bitter taste), but with a rather repulsing metallic aftertaste to it. Lycanthropium doesn’t do anything if consumed or injected on its own; it would need a certain chemical agent for it to function the way that it does. There have been many different chemicals and plants that have been used throughout the prime-time of werewolfism, but all of the recipes and techniques for creating said serums/substances have either been destroyed, gone extinct, or lost to time.”

“Wow… You know a shitton, don’t you? You should hit up some laboratories with this knowledge; I bet they would pay big money to know more about this.”

“I only know about this since I have traveled to a few sites where lycanthropy incidents have occurred, and collected samples without anyone’s knowledge. Plus, it’s best if this knowledge is kept secret, as who knows how people will react. Besides, I’d rather use this personal expertise myself for my own gain. I also still have a bit of researching myself ahead of me anyway, since I believe to have one of the original compounds made by the Subversiunea Licantropului cult, but I have yet to find out.”

“That’s fair. Do you know how Lycanthropium works once in the human body?”

“How those Lycanthropium solutions and compounds functioned in the human body is beyond anyone’s knowledge; though it is theorized that if consumed or injected, it would alter the DNA of the victim, alter certain parts of the brain, and modify their skin cells to have certain receptors that detect when the moon was at its brightest and its full moon phase. Those certain receptors, when activated by god knows whatever is contained within moonlight, sends signals to specific parts of the brain and make the brain perform the grotesque transformative effects of lycanthropy. On a brighter note, scientists over the years concluded that injecting Lycanthropium serums into the human body is far more effective than consuming Lycanthropium compounds.”

[END_OF_EVIDENCE]

My eyes sparkled with amusement and wonder. Maybe this could be useful someday!

Perhaps there must be some way of reverse engineering the serum or compound, if ever uncovered, to make people shapeshift into other identities (like shown in movies and TV shows, such as one where one villain had the ability to change his identities, making multiple innocent people fall victim to being falsely punished by the justice system), making the people working at [REDACTED] less likely to be caught by the police, therefore making our success rates skyrocket out of the ballpark and making us the most notorious mafia in history!

…Or maybe I have too high hopes for this “Lycanthropium” stuff.

Who knows?

Perhaps I could ask him; he could adopt the idea if he’s as intelligent as he sounds.

Another question would be soon asked, but then he got a phone call before it went out there in the universe.

A minute passes, and Johnson said to me, “I’m sorry, mate. I have to get going. The boss assigned me a new mission. But I’ll give you my info so we can chat anytime we’re available.”

He typed up a storm for a fleeting moment, before asking what my contact information was. I gave it to him through Ripples, and he got up to go get to whatever mission he was on. During that, I got a message from him with his info, to which I still have today.

But unbeknownst to me, this would be the friend of a lifetime, getting me out from the pit of being introverted, and into being one who would take on anything without a hint of shyness.

A lot to share about him is on my plate, but enough is said for now.

[END_OF_TAPE]

[TAPE_AUTOMATICALLY_REWOUND_ AND_EJECTED]

[SAFELY_SHUTTING_OFF_VHS_DISPLAYER]

[SHUTDOWN_SUCCESSFUL]

……………………………………………………………

Reichard snaps himself out of it, realizing he was taking too much time on ruminating the past.

“Only way forward is not stopping for your past. I need to remember that,” Reichard uttered to himself, and returned to what he was doing.

Not a few moments later, he hears the sound of a heavy metal door opening. Looking behind him, he saw one of his other friends, Carlos, entering the cafeteria.

Carlos is a six-foot-four member of [REDACTED] with a very muscular build, enough to make him seem rather intimidating. He is of Mexican-American decent, and tattoos adorned his body, especially on his burly arms. Buzzcut-style brown hair covered his head, and tiny amounts of facial hair were present. The usual attire he wears is a white wifebeater shirt, worn-down baggy beige cargo pants, black and blue Salomon Speedcross 3’s, a vintage silver Rolex on his right wrist, and a gold chain necklace.

He sees Reichard sitting at one of the many tables alone, and decides to come over while saying, “You doin’ alright, Holmes?”

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just trying to figure out a way to gather information about the individual who murdered Johnson Suntduffin, so we could catch him and ensure the safety of Operation Rocket. I still can’t get over that stupid faggot who killed him.” Reichard replied.

Carlos sits across from Reichard, folding his hands neatly on the table, and starts twiddling his thumbs.

He then quietly sighs and responds, “I know losing him was tough; he was such a cool and humorous dude. He also gave us a whole world of new ideas for improving how the mafia functions and operates. But thankfully we still have the recipe for the blowdarts so not all is lost. Better yet, the laboratory has engineered a new and improved formula with a higher efficiency rate. However, it is worried that there may be side effects and unintended features that come with it.”

“I’ve heard through the grapevine about the new blowdarts; all new things will inevitably have unintended bugs or side effects that come with it. Also, the boss said that Operation Rocket is supposed to be underway with those blowdarts at the end of the month.”

“Good news is that the delivery is arriving this Monday. Once the boss gives the go-ahead, we’re on our merry way blowdarting niggas and shit. Followin’ through Johnson’s legacy type-beat agenda.”

“Perfect.”

“Out of my five years working here, I have never been more excited in my life. Johnson would be hella proud, esse.”

“Oh without a doubt!”

A new idea unexpectedly popped into Reichard’s head, one that made him feel utterly stupid inside because he didn’t think of it ever since he wrote it down.

Why not ask Carlos to team up with him? Maybe he knows about James Brookwood; perhaps he knows someone who knows a truckload about them. This could be the key to finding him!

“Jesus Christ, why haven’t I thought of this before?!” Reichard blurted out, putting his hands on his head.

With a curious look, Carlos asks, “What is it, Holmes?”

“Does the name ‘James Alpine Brookwood V’ ring a bell for you? I’m trying to stalk him and get more info about him so the mafia has a better chance at catching him.”

“That name sounds rather familiar…”

“He’s the one that killed Johnson. There’s a huge bounty sent on him; a $100,870 dead-or-alive bounty to be precise. Do you know any info about him?”

Carlos’ eyes lit up, now knowing who Reichard is talking about. As Carlos began to inform him about what knowledge he had in stock, Reichard unlocks his phone to get to his notepad.

“Ah yeah, the fool that killed Johnson, now I remember,”

Reichard then shows him the notepad with what information is currently needed, and what techniques for getting information are. Carlos closely studies the note, reviewing each and every word on the digital note. While he was at it, the gears in his brain turned with as much torque as they could perform, Carlos’ thumbs twiddling more furiously as the gears turned and clanked.

Moments sluggishly slid by, the clock slowly ticking and patience beginning to wane.

To Reichard’s disappointment, Carlos hisses and says, “Sssshhhhiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeet… I hate to break it to you I don’t have any solid information in my memory that I can give to ya Homie.”

“Well, merde. This shit is way harder than I had anticipated. It was worth a shot though.” He thought to himself, sighing as hope drained from his face and his head now resting on his right hand.

Then, out of nowhere, Carlos musters a smirk and snaps his hand into a pointing gesture, “But, I did record a few phone calls I tapped into that might have some info about him, dawg.”

“Really?” Reichard questioned, his face becoming a little more lively with excitement.

“We’ll take a listen together and give it to the boss tomorrow morning. But I ain’t finished with this joint brotha, the shit gets better; I do happen to know someone that’ll most likely be within close proximity of him most of the time from September to August of next year. He also could have some vital P-double-I’s and even some other close affiliates that could aid us in getting him.”

“Do you know when he’s available so we can get him in on my mission?”

“He’s a bit of a busy man at the moment. But I’ll let you know when he’s available so we can chat with him for a bit and make some sort of gameplan.”

“Brilliant. Once we know everything about this kid, he’ll have nowhere to run or hide. And when the time is right, we’ll capture him with his tail tucked in between his legs. Whatever we do next with that rascal is up to the boss to decide.”

“Yeah. I feel as if we made a good start, huh esse?”

Reichard nods his head, and replies with a grin, “Sure as fuckin’ shit, mon ami.”

Carlos couldn’t help but laugh with glee, “That’s what I like to hear Holmes!”

“Now let’s get down to business, Carlos. Allez droit au but et faites ce qui doit être fait.”

Vengeance, a blade forged in the darkest corridors of hatred and hurt, cuts through the tapestry of fate, leaving scars that eternally bleed in its wake…

…but only a few things can break such blade…

…One that is designed to be taken seriously…

…One that holds the fury of a newborn pulsar…

…One that isn’t afraid to show their strength…

…One that doesn’t know what “giving up” is…

…And one that tells others to fuck around and find out for themselves…

…

…Especially against evil revenge.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Sunday, July 26th, 2020, 3:37 PM.

Glensville, New York.

Rain.

Cold, gloomy, and wet.

Mother Nature’s embodiment of crying and a critical component of Earth’s beautiful ecosystems.

A nostalgic piece of childhood in the hearts of many people who played when the rain fell…

…And a nightmare for race car drivers, especially the deadly nature of hydroplaning, in which your car suddenly feels like you’re trying to drive on ice and when the tires’ grip on the road becomes zero for a quick yet traumatic moment.

Moving on, rain is usually symbolized in movies and whatnot as a depressing and happiness-robbing setting, typically used in a heart-shattering situation like a broken relationship between two lovers or saying your last goodbye to a fallen loved one. Or it could also be used in suspenseful situations like in those old detective movies with those Sherlock-Holmes-wannabes and their magnifying glasses.

Or, it is simply there to set the mood or as just a random weather event; no particular reason, no exact spirit, no actual motives for the audience, just existing and hanging about like a friendly passerby waiting at the bus stop with you.

Many songs reference and/or are about the rain in one way or another, like “Singing In The Rain” for example.

Many people enjoy the rain.

Many people are on the fence about the rain.

And, like all things that exist, some people despise the rain like a cat fearing to get wet.

“So I just did me some talkin' to the sun

And I said I didn't like

The way he got things done

Sleepin' on the job

Those raindrops are fallin' on my head

They keep fallin'...”

- “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” by B.J. Thomas.

At the end of the storm, rain has many different meanings to many people, whether it be as comforting as a calm and soothing childhood memory, or as heartbreaking as one’s first breakup.

The raindrops kept falling on people’s heads in Glensville, and not many people were out on the gloomy, wet sidewalks, nor was anyone driving out on the small, slippery roads. Most people during rainy days would stay inside. While inside, they could listen to classical music, fall asleep to the soothing sound of rain, have a nice warm cup of tea, play a board game with friends or family, work on some artwork or literature, the list goes on; you get the idea.

Cloudy and rainy days tend to be rather gloomy and dull to most.

But unlike most people during rainy days, Natalie didn’t stay inside. Instead, she decided to spend some of today in the rain, with an umbrella to avoid getting soaked. The rain brought comfort to her, a world of serenity. From a gentle sunshower to a raging downpour, Natalie enjoys their sounds all the same. It’s unclear to her why she finds easement from the soaking showers. Still, it could be from all the nostalgic memories she had of playing out in the rain when she was just a little girl, a time when there was no need to worry about what to pursue in life, how to manage things all on her own, or what goals to achieve when college rolls around; just being a kid, having fun and unknowingly making memories that would last a lifetime.

As Natalie strolled along the wet sidewalk, the rain repeatedly yet calmingly tapped against the umbrella, filling her mind with an inner peace that gently grazed about like a graceful yet slow-dancing ballerina. Though grey to most eyes, the atmosphere surrounding her on days like these didn’t bother her; for it brought a blissful sense of being at a place you could call home. Precipitation that had fallen from the sky collected into tiny streams that joined others to become more prominent water flows, going wherever gravity and the landscape guided it, whether that be a puddle, a drain, or an even larger stream. An occasional car passes by, making a soft yet watery woooooosh as it passes by, its tires kicking up minuscule droplets of water and making subtle noise with the water on the asphalt. It was bright enough outside to see clearly, but the old-fashioned street lamps were turned on to ensure drivers and people could see better through the falling rain.

Whenever Natalie had bad or intrusive thoughts, her coping mechanism would be to put on some quiet music and take a nice, stress-relieving walk. The mechanism works even better when rain is present, for the sound of falling rain is one of her most favorite sounds to listen to when not in the best of mindsets.

And today was one of those days; the whole situation with Fat Bastard kept on bothering her to no avail. But instead of quiet music such as Chillhop Lo-Fi with the anthro raccoon being her usual choice, she decided to catch up on what was happening in the world, a daily podcast talking about the latest and hottest news from many different sources softly playing through her AirPod Pros.

“Welcome back ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary peeps to another hot and exciting three-hour installment of ‘Spreading The News With Daniel Harker.’ We’ve got many special news stories to tell you folks about, and I’m here with two people from The Stigma Banishers for this special podcast episode. “Howdy y’all, I’m Bryson McFarlander,” “And I’m Grace LaPerogio,” and I’m Daniel Harker, here to bring you a juicy and special installment of ‘Spreading The News.’”

“On today’s podcast, we’ll be talking about burning news stories such as a fascinating story from The Daily Pika, where SubFuture Labs announced they’ll soon be attempting to develop a real-life functioning Pokéball capable of capturing Pokémon like the famous fictional device used in the games and animes. Another interesting news story is about a viral TikToker being arrested and charged after conducting the “infinite shampoo prank” on someone who was anaphylactic to strawberries, from The Talking Vulpine. One more special mention before we dive head-first is a story about a defunct New-York-founded car company that went bankrupt back in 2001 named “Vixen” that will soon be revived and back in business with a new and stylish fleet of muscular automobiles, from Car And Driver. That’s just three of our dozen stories in stock for you. Stay tuned; you’ll not want to miss out on these news. We’ll be right back after a word from today’s sponsors; NordVPN, Riot Technologies, and WeatherTech. Until then, I’m Daniel Harker, teaming up to fight against stigmatism with the boys, right here on Spreading The News.”

While the sponsors were doing their thing, Natalie could faintly hear what sounded like a small animal bawling and crying. Out of instinct, she paused her podcast, put her AirPod Pros back into their charging case, and decided to see where that sound came from. As soon as the sound started, it abruptly stopped a second later. She was confused about whether the sound was actually coming from the real world, some misheard sound from her podcast, or an auditory illusion caused by a bunch of different sounds. If it were just her hearing things, that would be a really dumb and stupid way to be brought out from her moment of precipitating bliss.

Just as Natalie thought it was just a figment of her imagination and was about to put her AirPods back in her ears, the sound started again, this time slightly louder.

“Ok, now I know for sure I wasn’t hearing things. I need to get to the bottom of this…”

She followed her ears to her best ability, trying to figure out where on planet freaking Earth that heart-wrenching sound was emitting from. Looking in gutters, alleyways, windows, anywhere Natalie could lock her eyes onto she searched like a search and rescue team keeping an eye out for refugees after a crisis. A little trick Natalie likes to play inside her head is to track a sound like a game of Hot and Cold; listen for the sound as closely as possible in one position, and try to move towards it. If the sound gets louder in one direction, go that way. If not getting louder or leads to a dead end, retrace the steps from where you have stopped your last scouting location and continue from there.

More Hot and Cold techniques ensued until she was right at a dark, dirty, and mossy alleyway. The sound could be heard so clearly it was impossible not to know exactly where it could be. Natalie cautiously took slow steps into the depressing alleyway, with what appeared to be some sort of rusted padlocked cage covered by a worn-out and putrid bed comforter.

While expecting the worst, Natalie harrowingly thought to herself, “W-w-what if…?”

She knew exactly what could be residing in the small cage. It was without a sliver of doubt either an abused pet or an animal left to die.

Tears welled in her eyes and it became hard for her to swallow, terror-stricken to know what lies behind the rotted comforter. However, at the same time, she didn’t want to live with the guilt of not saving a poor animal’s life. She felt herself on the verge of brain-processing overload, fighting her thoughts and decisions through the animal’s heart-breaking cries and fear of what horrors she could traumatize herself.

The decision-making eventually crossed the breaking point, Natalie rather being met with whatever horror may lie behind the comforter than live with the guilt of knowing she could’ve saved an animal’s life. She slowly approaches the comforter-covered cage, putting her umbrella off to the side, no longer caring about getting wet.

A careful hand slowly drew closer to the horrible-smelling comforter, soon enough touching and grabbing on one corner. Now all she needed to do, was muster up the strength to face the horrid music head-on and see what could lie behind the meanings.

As she slowly lifted the comforter and put it aside, a terrible, heart-shattering sight was presented to her very eyes.

A young, vulpine animal was shaking and wounded in the locked cage, with many patches of missing fur and a horrid amount of wounds. Even worse is that the poor soul was also skin and bones, the outlines of their organs faintly showing through the wet, matted, blood-stained and ruined fur. The little fox even had its front left paw up, with what appeared to be a badly infected laceration on its chest, slight amounts of blood and plasma oozing out of it. Said fox cub noticed Natalie, its beady and extremely dilated golden-yellow eyes beseeching profusely for help with its bushy tail tucked between its rear hocks. Not to mention, its ears were flopped down as well. It even had a purple collar with a daisy-shaped nametag that had the name “Daisy” on it.

But this wasn’t any ordinary fox…

…It was a shiny Nickit!

Shiny Pokémon are also called rare variants in biological terms, rare variants being so rare you’d be more likely struck by lightning than finding one out in the wild. Many Pokémon enthusiasts strive to obtain one or even be lucky to get a glimpse of one. What’s even more interesting is that very little is known or documented about these “shiny” creatures.

Why they’re called shinies? Who knows; not even the Fairy Godmother could provide an answer for you. Most likely it was some nickname someone gave them and people just went with it.

Natalie couldn’t help but burst into tears, sobbing profusely as to how someone could do something so cruel to an animal, let alone a damn Pokémon, let alone a young one who hasn’t had a fair chance at life yet!

“Who could be so heartless to abuse and leave a beautiful creature like you to die?! Why are people like this let alone condone this?! How can someone justify torturing a little animal just for their entertainment and so they can see others be heartbroken by what they have done?! This world is not fucking fair…” Natalie shakily cried.

The poor Nickit whimpers, “Niiiiick…” as if it was trying to say something to Natalie.

After a few moments of uncontrollable and traumatizing crying, Natalie sucked up her tears and then got close to the cage door, quietly saying to the foxy Pokémon, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here. I promise. I’ll give you a warm and loving home, safe from anything or anyone that tries to hurt you. I’ll even give you some fresh meat and berries my parents just got from the market so you can regain your strength. I want to help you and give you all my love. I… *sniff* I hope you understand that…”

Natalie gently grabbed the rusty lock, and just hopelessly yet blankly stared at it, not knowing how to break it open. She noticed a little safety pin on the ground just to her right and picked it up. Soon enough, she made some adjustments and bent the pin in specific ways, then began to fiddle with the lock, seeing if she could pick it open like those top secret spies or meddling young rascals in movies. Of course, she had no experience or idea of how lock picking works, just pathetically and helplessly jiggling the pin haphazardly in the lock’s keyhole, hoping by some miracle the padlock would surrender its guard and unlock.

To Natalie's dismay, agonizing and traumatizing minutes passed with no luck or progress. The lock would not budge no matter how much effort was put in. She even tried other methods of breaking the cage open in desperation, such as prying on the door or relentlessly pulling down the lock, which of course did nothing to contribute to her progress of freeing the poor fox. One last attempt is to pick up the cage and bring it over to her house so she can find a tool to cut open the cage while keeping the Nickit company.

But alas, the cage was bolted onto the pavement, putting the last nail in the coffin that was Natalie’s hopelessness in saving the little fox.

“It’s no use…” She softly cried to herself, all hope draining from her body as the tears fell just like the rain.

As her clothes and hair became noticeably wet with water that stank of petrichor, she continued, “...I really don’t want to leave them to die like this; they deserve so much better. I don’t give a fuck if Nickits or Thievuls are extraordinarily notorious for being mischievous and having the tendency to be thieves, they’re still beautiful creatures and deserve to have a chance at life. I’m not giving up until you’re free!”

Natalie took her umbrella, and just unscrewed the thick rubber-coated plastic handle off. She had ran out of reasonable attempts to try and free the Nickit from the wet and depressing prison, and now she was resorting to random bullshit.

She grabbed the lock again, this time her left hand having a firm grip on it, with her right hand holding the umbrella handle, positioning it just above the lock’s upper right corner. Slow, preparing motions of striking the lock were made, her right hand going up, and then down, and so on for a few moments.

Then, with one swift motion, she struck against the upper right of the lock.

CLANG!!

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

CLANG!!!

Again, the lock stood its ground.

She kept on trying a few times, wishing to the universe to have mercy on the fox Pokémon, wanting it to be free from the terrifying and agonizing grasp of suffering. But the universe ignored Natalie, as if it was saying “Tough. There are some sacrifices you’ll have to make; not everything can go in your favor.” Nonetheless, Natalie kept on trying, ignoring the fact that this could possibly be a lose-lose situation.

“Insanity Is Doing the Same Thing Over and Over Again and Expecting Different Results.”

- From Rita Mae Brown’s novel, “Sudden Death”

All this emotional turmoil that engulfed her eventually took a massive toll; she never wanted to see an animal suffer and was always severely heartbroken when she saw one suffering. Even a simple backstory about a rescue animal is enough to send her to tears. Out of anger and angst, she struck the lock as hard as she could, which resulted in the handle breaking apart, this time with a slightly different yet not-so-promising CLANK!!!

With no more energy to keep seeing the animal in pain and suffering, she simply laid down on the mossy, wet cracked concrete and ugly cried her eyes out. Thoughts of being guilty for not being able to save an animal flooded her mind, the feeling of not being good enough despite how hard she tried with what she had doing nothing but beating her up.

By now her clothes and hair were completely soaked from the smelly rain, her caring more about the Nickit than her personal belongings being water damaged. This shouldn’t be any amount of a surprise when the fact that Natalie is passionate about animals and Pokémon is mentioned to the reader; she would go to any length to ensure that an animal has a loving and caring environment, even if it means sacrificing her own well-being. All she cares about is the animal's happiness and well-being, no matter what the cost may be. She would donate her time, money, and even her own home to help an animal in need. She would never turn away an animal and always put the animal's needs first. She is a true animal lover and would do anything to help them.

“I’m never good enough for anything…

…How am I supposed to live knowing that I left my favorite Pokémon to fucking die?!

I wish I had a knife on me right now, I might as well slit my throat or wrist open and bleed out until I’m dry…

…I don’t want to suffer from this amount of guilt…

…I don’t care if I have a loving family or a fantastic boyfriend, or anything else…

…Living with this guilt would be beyond cruel and torturous.

I just want to live knowing I gave an abused animal a fair, second chance at life…

…That’s all I wish for…”

Something wet and fluffy rubbed against her arms, followed by a shaky “Nickit…” causing her extreme thoughts to grind to a sudden halt. She sat up, and saw the Nickit that was trapped inside the cage, now outside and looking at her with a blissful wave of hope. She was perplexed momentarily, but a quick glance over at the prisonous cage answered her confusion.

The lock was now broken and on the ground, the shackle now separated from the rusty padlock, with the door now free and wide open.

At that moment, all of her deprecative thoughts and regrets retreated; hence, they no longer served her any purpose. She felt a sense of lightness and freedom, as if a heavy weight had been finally lifted off her shoulders. Thoughts of accomplishment and gratitude rolled in to replace the empty space the harmful thoughts left behind. She benevolently allowed herself to be present in the moment; contentedness and peace filled the surrounding atmosphere as she slowly put her hand out, with the fox approaching her cautiously before sniffing it curiously. A moment passed and it licked her hand and rubbed its head against it with a quiet purr, making Natalie smile. She knew that the Nickit was warming up to her, and with that knowledge, she was determined to help it.

With no warning, the Nickit cautiously entered Natalie’s lap, putting all its trust on the table. Natalie felt a connection with the young fox cub, as if they could communicate without words. She knew that the fox was scared and alone, and the fox seemingly knew that she wanted to help it. Usually, when rescuing an abused animal, the animal would not approach the helper until it has gained enough trust and temptation, especially a wild animal or Pokémon. But for this one oddly enough, trust was gained far more quickly than expected; maybe the fox knew and understood Natalie’s words and motives, and urgently wanted help from anyone willing to stop what they were doing and tend to it. It’s as if the Nickit could feel the passionate and caring aura surrounding Natalie, and figured that this was the person that could lend a helping hand (or paw). Fortunately for the little Nickit, its trust is about to pay off, for without her, it would have eventually been sunken under the quicksands of post-mortality for the rest of time.

She then gently picked up the baby fox, with it letting out a quiet whimper of pain. She gave it a gentle yet comforting hug, saying “Don’t worry, little one. It’s going to get better from here, I promise.”

Natalie then got up on her two feet, got her umbrella, and took the little wounded Nickit back home to treat it. Tears still trickled from her eyes, mixing with the rain that tapped onto her face, with the poor fox shivering and whining, still scared and confused about everything that went down.

The road nowadays may be thick and rough with deep mud and stank water, but that never always means that the road far ahead won’t be adorned with golden streets and smoothly-paved sidewalks.

A rough road toward recovery can lead to a beautiful destination of health and well-being.

“I feel it's gonna rain like this for days

So let it rain down and wash everything away

I hope that tomorrow the sun will shine

With every tomorrow comes another life

I feel it’s gonna rain…”

- “Rain” by Creed.

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

Sunday, July 26th, 2020, 4:07 PM.

Natalie’s House, Glensville, New York.

The front door was unlocked via key, and the comforting warmth of a loving home gently enveloped Natalie and her rescue Pokémon as she stepped foot, soon closing the door behind her. Both were beyond soaked from the bliss-robbing downfall of rain, shivers booming in their bodies even more than before. Water that reeked of the outdoors dripped from Natalie’s clothes and the Nickit’s drenched fur, forming small puddles of rainwater behind them as Natalie took the fox to the kitchen’s countertop.

The sound of rain murmuringly tapped against the windows, gently filling the home’s ambiance with a low, comforting pitter-pattering whisper. Only the kitchen lights were dimly lit and emitting a soft white glow, and the house was rather dim and feeding into the gloominess of the outside weather, despite being closed from the atmosphere of the outside world.

Natalie would brighten the LED kitchen lights, and set the color temperature to be a more inviting yet mellow warm white, which made a more homey, warm feeling of safety comfortingly fill the fox cub’s thoughts alongside their feelings. She would take out a grey, fluffy hand towel made of the finest Egyptian cotton from one of the kitchen cabinets, and lay the towel flat on the luxurious white countertop before putting the nervous Nickit down onto it. A soothing hand, that of a loving and caring mother, reached out and gave the cub a tender, heartening rub on the cheek and the side of its head. Meanwhile, it would then lay down on its side from how energy-robbed its wounded body was.

Through a shaky yet comforting voice, Natalie says, “I’ll get you something nutritious to eat and some clean water to drink. After that, I’ll do my best to treat your wounds and whatnot. I’m hoping you will accept the love and care I have to offer…”

As she went to get the food and water, the foxy Pokémon emitted a quiet yet audible vulpine warbling noise, sounding a bit like “rrrrrrrurururururururururuuu…” almost as if the Nickit was trying to say something like a “thank you” in return.

Two white bowls would be pulled out from the upper cabinets, one gently placed down as she went to the fridge and filled the other with crisp, hydrating water from the fridge’s built-in pitcher.

The bowl, now filled with clean and clear liquid, was lovingly placed in front of the poor fox, and without any hesitation, it rolled onto its belly and started to lap the water up. While the baby was busy hydrating itself, Natalie grabbed some microgreens, freshly sliced deli ham, and various berries; strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. Then she would put a handful of the microgreens into the bowl, alongside the berries which she washed and cut up before putting in. She took a few slices of ham, tore them up into small, easy-to-chew pieces, and mixed them around in the bowl along with the other nutrient-rich ingredients.

And the little cherry on top was the fact it was infused with a generous amount of love and care.

To say that the little fox was desperate for a bite to eat was a massive understatement; Natalie barely even put it down all the way in front of the Nickit, and it immediately ate away in a bit of a fierce fashion. As the starved Pokémon chomped away at its lovingly made meal, it vocalized out in what sounded like hopeful and happy “nom nomf num” noises, possibly since it was left to starve to death, desperately waiting for its next meal, and now ecstatic that its long-anticipated meal finally came. The cute little noises the cub emitted as it speedily ate made Natalie smile, a tear trickling down her face while she thought of how much she possibly meant to the little baby animal. She thought that maybe the universe gave in, feeling a little guilty about its harsh statement during the situation, and offered to give her a fair chance at saving the poor baby.

While the Nickit ate, she gently stroked its soaked grey-furred head, soon saying “Wait right here. I’ll get some medical supplies to treat your wounds and a towel to dry you off. Afterwards, I’ll see if I can take you to an animal hospital so they can help you. Well, hoping they also take Pokémon as well.”

She would quickly jog to the bathroom, gathering the supplies needed to help treat the poor, neglected animal.

As the Nickit soon finished eating, it began to think to itself as it blankly stared at the now empty bowl,

“Something about that human has a comforting presence to them… Although I haven’t ever met them, nor do I barely even know anything about them, I could just sense their intentions were that of good spirit. The moment they uncovered my cage and saw me, I could feel the sympathy overflowing from them. I felt a little uneasy and unsure when they started tampering with my prison, but something just told me everything would be alright. Words couldn’t describe how thankful I was that someone heard my cries, and freed me from what would’ve been my last resting place. I’ve already had to deal with the shackles of my previous owner, who abused and neglected me for their entertainment, laughing at me whenever I cowered in fear from their evil intentions, and inhumanly punished me whenever I tried to defend myself or fight back. But now…

…For the first time…

…I finally feel free…

…I believe I now know what love can indeed be…

…And I met someone who showed compassion for me.

Today has to be the best day of my existence…

…I wish I could say thank you to them in human language…

…Whoever this human is, you mean everything to me…

…And I mean that with my aching heart…”

Not too long passes by, and Natalie returns with a small bin full of medical supplies and a soft, plush towel to dry the poor animal off. She still had her soaking wet clothes on, caring more about the neglected cub than how comfortable she felt with the wet garments. The Nickit was still there, looking up at her with its big, sad eyes as it pawed at the empty bowl, asking for more food. With no hesitation, Natalie put down the supplies and towel and grabbed the bowl to whip up more of the nourishing dish she had made, of course infusing it with love as she prepared it. After that was taken care of, she put the bowl down for the Nickit to eat, removed the purple collar to avoid interfering with the drying process, and gently dried the baby off as it ate. She did her absolute best to be gentle with drying it off, making sure to softly pat down and not rub as to prevent the wounds from opening up or causing more pain. Sure the process was slow, but it’s far better than rushing things and causing agony while possibly worsening the injuries as a result.

By now the towel was noticeably wet, with the Nickit’s grey and navy-blue fur much drier and easier to work with, but still somewhat damp. The cub has already gorged down the bowl of food once again, and respectfully so; who wouldn’t speedrun to stuff their stomach when they haven't had a bite to eat in days or possibly a week or more? Natalie put the bowl off to the side, and slid the water bowl closer to the baby so it could wash down the grub.

“Lap lap lap lap lap lap lap…”

Natalie then began to tend to the injuries adorning the poor baby Pokémon, grabbing a cotton pad and wetting it, before inspecting its body and cleaning off any wounds it had. She also sprayed the wounds with Bactine to gently disinfect them, especially the heartbreakingly nasty infected laceration it had on its chest. Lastly, to protect the wounds, she applied hospital-grade wound ointment to them. As Natalie tended to the cub’s wounds, the kit would emit a quiet yet audible purring sound, its eyes closed and finally feeling at peace.

Out of curiosity about why the cub had its front left paw up earlier, Natalie gently and tenderly grabbed it, and slowly turned it around. Without warning, the Nickit released an ear-piercing, heart-shattering scream of pain, quickly retracting its paw away. Natalie gasped out of shock, not meaning any harm to the ill-fated fox, crying softly out of guilt while whimpering “I’m so fucking sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

She quickly sucked up her tears and tried to do the same thing, this time grabbing the sides of the paw instead of the top and bottom. The Nickit allowed it this time, with no extreme pain being felt.

When Natalie saw what was causing pain in the cub’s paw, her heart sank and chills ran down her spine.

There was a fucking staple in the central pad of its paw! Not to mention, it was rather bloody and had signs of an infection starting! No wonder why the Nickit screamed out of pain!

Natalie did everything she could do in her power to hold back the boiling tears capable of producing horrid burns, wondering how much worse it could get and why people would do such despicable things to a baby animal. To make matters worse, the animal abuse/neglect victim was her favorite Pokémon.

As the tears kept raining down her cheeks, Natalie whimpers, “Who did this- *gasp* *sniffle* …who did this to you…?”

A jittery hand, shaking from the whole ordeal, reached into the bin of haphazardly disorganized medical supplies and grabbed a pair of medical-grade tweezers. Natalie then took another look at the wounded, staple-stabbed pink paw pad, being as gentle as humanly possible.

“I know you may not understand my words or intentions, but please don’t be scared. You’ll only feel a little pain, I promise. I’m only going to remove whatever is in your bean, probably a staple, and I’ll be as gentle as possible. Please don’t attack me for doing this…” Natalie soothingly muttered, clemently cleaning the area and putting Bactine on it while giving it a chance to do its thing.

After a moment, it was time for a foreign object extraction. With the tweezers in one hand and the paw in the other, a steady yet slightly precarious pair of tweezers slowly approached the staple in the Nickit’s paw. Once Natalie grabbed the staple, she fiddled a little with the grip. When she figured she had a secure hold, she began to pull, slowly getting the staple out gently. The little cub winced somewhat while whimpering and whining a bit, Natalie comfortingly going “Sssshhhhh…” attempting to comfort it with her voice. Although the process was slow, it appeared that she thankfully wasn’t causing too much discomfort to the little fox, as it didn’t try to pull its paw away or scream out.

Not even ten seconds that felt like an eternity later, Natalie finally managed to get the staple out, the baby Pokémon letting out a sharp yet quick yelp of pain. She observed the blood-covered staple, the staple being likely unused due to its legs not being bent, and it being surprisingly not rusted at all. Putting down the staple and the tweezers, she looked at its paw, the staple finally removed and the two puncture wounds bleeding a little. The wounds were then softly cleaned with more Bactine and a cotton pad, and were patted dry with a clean one. Last but not least, a non-stick gauze pad was applied to the wounded paw, along with wrapping the paw up in some beige-colored self-adhering medical wrap, tight enough to put a little pressure on the wound to treat the bleeding, but not enough to cause constant affliction. For the cherry on top, Natalie gave the dirty collar a good soapy hot scrub in the kitchen sink for a minute or two, and dried it off thoroughly before putting it back onto the Nickit’s neck.

“There we go. You’ve been fed, hydrated, and better yet given some love tender and care with your wounds. I’m sorry if I scared you or caused you pain; I just wanted to help you and give you another chance at life. I’m not sure how my parents will react to seeing you, but I hope they can help both of us out and provide us a ride to the animal hospital. Just remember, I care about you and’ll do anything to ensure you’re happy…

I promise…

…I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again, Daisy.”

Natalie gently cradled its fluffy head, the fox giving her a slow yet hopeful little wink while cooing quietly.

Out of nowhere, the Nickit’s ears perked up moments before swiftly throwing its head around, hearing a door opening and someone walking over to the kitchen. Natalie wasn’t sure what to do, nor what to say to explain the situation in a manner that would be reasonable to her parents; What if they freaked out thinking it was some wild animal? What if they don’t understand her? What if they don’t want her to help out the poor baby? How is she supposed to make them believe Pokémon exists in real life? So many questions, so little time to process them all!

Natalie’s mother, Florence, comes down the stairs and towards the kitchen, not noticing the grey and navy-blue broom-tailed fox until she was about to talk to her daughter. Of course, she froze for a moment, trying to figure out what the heck that fox was doing on the kitchen countertop, and why the animal looked somewhat stranger compared to a normal one.

Before Florence could utter a word, Natalie swiftly interrupted her by shakily exclaiming “Mom! I can explain!!! It’s not what you think!!!” before bursting into tears again.

She then soothingly replies, “N-N-Natalie… Please calm down. I wasn’t going to yell at you or anything. Just explain what’s happening and I’ll be as open-minded as possible.”

And explain away is what Natalie did; The story would start with her taking a little stroll through the rain, while listening to a podcast. Then she heard an animal crying for help, so she attempted to find out where that sound originated. Eventually, she found a fox in a cage left for dead, rescued it, and brought it back home to take care of it.

Florence took a moment to take it all in. Then she would speak understandingly, “Listen, I’m not mad; I can understand the guilt you would’ve felt if you didn’t rescue it. I get your intentions being that of good spirit, but next time, please don’t bring in some random animal you found outside as god knows what kind of diseases they could have.”

Afterward, she turned to the Nickit, observing its wounded body as the Nickit looked back with big, beady golden-yellow eyes. She would then put her hand out to the Nickit for it to smell, the scared little cub cautiously taking a curious sniff.

Daisy’s trust in Florence bloomed like the flower she was named after, but not entirely enough to be trusted, unlike Natalie. Florence would gently try to pet the little foxy, the poor baby cowering somewhat with its ears flopped down as its body shook. With how the cub was reacting, she was hesitant to give it physical attention, fearing it could instantly snap its jaws at her at any moment.

Thankfully, Daisy allowed Florence to gently pet her head, beginning to purr from the physical affection a moment later. However, it still was cowering a bit, ears flopped down a little and its bushy tail tucked between its legs.

Florence speaks quietly, sadly but soothingly, “Awww… poor baby’s shaking like a leaf… It’s all going to be ok little one…”

“Also, Natalie. What kind of animal is this? Is it supposed to be some sort of fox?” She continued, confused about the vulpine Pokémon.

“Yeah, it’s a fox, but it’s a fox Pokémon called a Nickit. It’s my most favorite Pokémon.”

“Oooh, right. I remember you showing me one time-
wait a second.
I thought Pokémon didn’t exist in real life!”

“To be fair, not many people know about that fact, since, well, many agencies worldwide tried to keep it secret for a long time. It’s also what inspired the actual games to come to fruition; these games about strange, otherworldly creatures with mysterious powers within them. Of course, some Pokémon are real, like this Nickit, and some are just made up for more variety in the games.”

“Huh. Interesting. Isn’t there a database of sorts so I can know more info?”

“Yup! It’s called a Pokédex. There’s an app for it on iPhone, Android, and even built-in on a separate standalone device. Let me pull it up and scan Daisy.”

Natalie would pull out her phone, and go to the “Pokédex Mobile” app. She navigated through the menus, and clicked on “Scan A Pokémon.”

A notification would then say before fading away, “Be sure there is enough lighting, a clear enough environment, and close proximity to the subject for best accurate results.”

She then steadily held the phone’s camera towards the Nickit, and pressed “scan” on the bottom of the screen. It would show some text saying “Keep the camera as steady as possible for three seconds” before taking a photo. The scanning process began, with some cool and unique UI sounds and visuals present as it did its thing. Suddenly, the scan stops, and a message saying “scan successfully completed!” appears on the screen. Lastly, it would redirect to a little video with a robotic voice, telling facts about the Pokémon before going to the registry. A more extended version is available if the user wants to know more about the Pokémon they have scanned.

Nickit

The Fox Bandit Pokémon

Nickit (aka Vulpes Banditus) is a vulpine, dark-type Pokémon with a quadrupedal build, being significantly but not entirely related to the main genus of the Vulpes genus. Growing to an average height of 18 inches (excluding the ears), an average length of 23 inches (excluding the tail), and an average weight of around 22.78 pounds. Has a 50/50 percent gender ratio between males and females. Nickit and its subsequent evolution originate from the country of Britain, Ireland, and Scotland. They can also be found in forests, rainforests, and other lush biomes, including in countries with such biomes as British America (E.X. New York), Brazil, Canada, and other countries with plentiful forests present.

It has squishy, plush paw pads capable of dampening almost all noise Nickit makes when walking or running, allowing it to raid the food stores of other Pokémon and animals silently. Due to their cautious and cunning nature, they can also ambush other animals and Pokémon without warning if they see the opportunity. They’re also extreme rivals towards the feline dark-type Pokémon Purrlion, relentlessly competing for the title of top thievery. Since they do not hunt down others and kill to eat like most carnivorous animals, they survive off their ill-gotten gains through thievery. But exceptionally rarely, they will hunt down and kill if they cannot find food to steal for a certain period of time. Nickit sports a strange yet interestingly shaped tail, covered in thick amounts of fur with bundles of fur spreading out in each direction at the end of it. They use their tails to sweep away their tracks after they obtain their loot, much like how one covers up their tracks to avoid getting traced and caught later.

Some owners of Nickits even trained them to help sweep up and clean floors with them, their broom-like tails being as efficient as traditional, modern sweeping tools. There also have been reports of troubled children/childhood bullies using Nickits to their advantage and for their personal gain, stealing items from their victims such as lunch money, school supplies, food, snacks, drinks, homework, and even personal valuables such as calculators, USB drives, jewelry, keys, and more. In extreme cases, they can also steal flip phones, MP3/MP4 players, smartphones, wallets, other electronics, and even portable gaming consoles from the victims directly to the bully without them noticing.

The difficulty of keeping a Nickit as a pet or side-kick companion from a scale of one to ten, would be around 5.5 to 6.3. At times they’re challenging to train, but are intelligent and quick learning nonetheless. Their behavior is mischievous, cunning, and at times rebellious, with a strong tendency to steal things and misplace or hide them around the house, or from others. However, they’re playful, energetic, and even cuddly when tired or relaxed. Strangely enough, there have been few reports of Nickits and their subsequent evolution being what are called “anti-bandits” meaning that their thief trait is absent, and their usual defiant, rebellious nature is replaced by a gentle and sweet disposition, with a tendency of wanting to give back misplaced or lost items to their rightful owners. It is currently unclear why this drastically unfitting personality trait has a possibility of showing up to one in about two thousand thirty four Nickits, although it is being heavily researched by Pokéoligists. The reasons behind said affectionate behavior or the origins of it remain enigmatic and up for theoretical debate as of the latest update of the Pokédex (Thursday, June 25th, 2020 at 2:15 PM EST).

End Of Entry.

“Woah. That’s wildly interesting, to say the least…” Florence said, a bit speechless about what technology was presented to her.

“...I’m hoping we got the anti-bandit version of Nickit; life would be much easier that way. Still, really cool information to know about.” She continued.

Natalie replies, “Even if Daisy isn’t, I will still provide them unlimited love and affection.”

Florence would say while gently wrapping the Nickit in a clean, soft hand towel and tenderly picking it up, “Alright, I think we’ve talked and burned enough daylight. Let’s get the poor baby to the animal hospital so we can get them treated. Once that’s out of the way, we’ll see if we can adopt the Pokéman and get some food, toys, and other pet stuff for it. Maybe we could even give it a new, clean collar to wear along with a shiny new daisy-shaped nametag.”

“Thank you for understanding the whole situation. I was afraid you wouldn’t take it so lightly,”

“It’s alright sweetie, you’re welcome. I’d instead try to figure out what the hubbub is about and see where to go from there, that way no bad outcomes can occur.”

Florence grabbed her Lexus car keys, and clicked on the unlock button several times to open the car. The two went into the garage and got into the car, the engine started a moment later and the garage door slowly opened up, depressingly inviting in the gloomy atmosphere. As Florence began to slowly back out, she would tell Siri to locate the nearest animal hospital, which turned out to be not too far from Glensville, the hospital being located in Orangeville. Finally, the two gals were out on the road, with Daisy shaking a little in Natalie’s lap. A comforting, warm feeling of finally being loved graciously filled Daisy’s aching, shattered heart, them having the most hope for the future than they ever had.

Natalie would quietly say to the Nickit, a tear trickling down her cheek as she benevolently gave it a comforting hug, “It’s all going to be ok, Daisy. I promise. Me and Mom are here to help you. We’ll do everything possible to ensure you feel loved and are a part of our family. Just remember that…”

Even during the harshest rainstorms, there’s a chance a small window of sunshine pokes through the thick clouds, blessing everything it touches with a renewed sense of hope.

“But there's one thing I know…

The blues they send to meet me

Won't defeat me…

It won't be long 'til happiness

Steps up to greet me…”

- “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head” by B.J. Thomas.

<=To=Be=Continued=\\\

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Wednesday, July 29th, 2020, 7:48 PM.

[Undisclosed location in Catskill Mountains, New York].

“Keep going, you’re good! I’ll let you know when to stop!”

A facility member said, helping direct the delivery semi back into a loading dock using various hand and arm motions.
 
The hulking, mechanical heartbeat of a chugging diesel engine fills the late afternoon air, accompanied by the alarming tones of a reversing Freightliner semi-truck. Constant huffing and puffing of the pressure relief system briefly exhaling could be heard, alongside the giant heavy-duty tires slowly crawling across the concrete ground as the brakes screeched out here and there. The truck carries a big trailer at the end, with the driver being careful not to cause any jackknifing as it eases towards one of the many loading docks.
 
Inside the Reefer, a sinister payload resided, expensive and somewhat experimental in nature, but brave-killing when soon put to its anticipated use.

The payload wasn’t the next illegal nose candy that would bring even a skilled high school scientist down to their knees…

…Nor was it some experimental virus made by some evil corporation obsessed about a handheld rain canopy, capable of wreaking havoc on the population if released…

…It was something far sinister…

…One that’ll aid

███████

’s progression into becoming the most notorious mafia in American history, if not the world’s history…

…One that could perform even more grotesque things on the human body, possibly even damage the integrity of one’s humanity permanently…

…Especially under the ominous light of the full moon…

Moments pass, and the truck’s trailer clicks into the loading dock, the person guiding the truck signaling the driver to stop. The driver shifts the truck’s gears into park, a clangorous

PSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!

emitting from the vehicle’s pressure valves, before killing the ignition soon after.
 
Two workers in the cargo delivery wing unlocked and opened the trailer’s doors, the ear-irritating squealing and creaking of metal hinges filling the wing’s reverberant atmosphere. As the hefty metallic doors slowly drew open, a trove of wooden crates with the macabre payload faintly revealed, the darkness of the trailer cloaking them in a sea of muted dark greys and blacks. It wouldn’t be long until the doors were fully open, and the trailer’s interior LED lights turned on, casting a harsh, industrial white light in the cavernous cargo space and onto the wooden crates ready to be unpacked. The payload resided in the unnatural glow, able to intimidate even the police if anyone other than facility members laid eyes upon them.
 
A flurry of other facility members with hand forklifts came over and began to unload the payload from the massive trailer, exercising extreme caution and care to not even put a dent in any of those crates or the eighteen pallets they resided on. Causing any damage, even the slightest ding, can be seen as a sinful taboo to the unloaders, as they do not want to experience the most horrid punishment of their lives; keep in mind that whatever is in those crates is a stupidly expensive and highly-coveted payload, each small individual box inside thirty-six of those crates containing $540 worth of product. The facility members would exchange small talk, chatting about how excited they were to see the new, improved product.

“...higher efficiency rate!”

“...should be getting into action soon…”

“...three hundred ninety-two boxes in every create…”

“...over $423k per pallet…”

“...enough to last over half a year…”

“...new werewolf types…”

Meanwhile, Reichard carefully entered the boss’s office, informing him of his presence and the news. The office perfectly balanced the vibes of both cozy and futuristic, with an authentic vintage bear rug on the spotless floor and oil paintings adorning the black wood-printed walls. Comfy chairs and leather sofas invited welcomed guests to relax, while an extra-large cat bed provided a perfect napping spot for the boss's sleepy pet Persian, with said Pokémon sleepily curled up. The wooden desk with its sleek glass top was meticulously organized; pens and office supplies had designated spots, wires from the ominous-looking PC were neatly arranged, and not a speck of dust marred the surface. An advanced Logitech mouse sat ready for use, possibly worth hundreds of dollars. The office even featured a genuine fireplace, adding a touch of home-like warmth to the professional, high-tech ambiance.
 
“Great news for ya; so far, it seems the delivery arrived at the facility safe and sound. Not even a single scratch.”
 
The Boss would let out a sinister, menacing laugh, replying in an ominous yet satisfied voice,

“Perfect…”

Our mystery-cloaked Italian-American mafia Boss ploddingly turned around, soon revealing himself: a middle-aged man with a professional short black haircut, and a handsome, ageless face that can strike trauma-inducing terror into fearless SWAT and military officers; even a drill sergeant would back away in dread. His luxuriously crafted yet inquietude-inducing attire infused more brave-sapping peril into the atmosphere surrounding him. Consisting of a dark black, notch-collared, button-down blazer coat with a red letter
“R”
on his left chest, a crimson business shirt underneath, carbon black formal business pants with a comically luxurious, handcrafted black leather belt, with a dark, polished silver buckle, and show-stopping matte-black Italian business shoes, also handcrafted and made by a privately-owned apparel manufacturing company Oxgnaw. Lastly, to put an evil black cherry on top of the trepidating cake, a brown mahogany desk name stand with red engraved letters stood on the right side of his desk.

That chilling nameplate spelling out one, menacing name…

A name so evil, that even the devil would have egregious nightmares at how iniquitously sadistic, villainous, abrasive, cynical, and frost-burn-blooded the Boss’s goals, motives, and actions are…

A name so bone-chilling, even FBI and CIA agents brave enough to dare reveal his identity or find out anything about him will be given severe cold sweats…

And a name so unforgetting, even a glance or slight earshot of it will be engrained into the deepest parts of your memory…

That one name is no other than…

…

Giovanni.
 
He would continue with an evil, blood-curdling smile, “Just what I’ve anticipated on hearing, Reichard.”
 
“Glad to see you happy, Boss. And I bet Johnson would be beyond proud of us.”
 
“I bet he’d be mindblown and starstruck to the point where words wouldn’t match how proud he would be,” Giovanni chuckled.

“I wish to see the new blowdarts and guns in action. Let’s head on over to the testing labs, shall we? Something within me wants to give them a good test drive myself on a live subject.”

“Oh

à coup sûr! À coup sûr!

As you wish.”
 
“Brilliant. Not too long from now, this state and country shall know what power

truly

looks like…
 
…And they shall stand and watch in fear.”

~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------~~~~~~~~~---------

7:56 P.M.

Research And Testing Lab Of ███████

Nestled within the heart of the facility, laid the Research and Testing Lab, its appearance taking on modern shades of dark gray, and the atmosphere sprawling with the pursuit of curiosity and the craving to push the limits of research. Meanwhile, the air is a little less inviting, as the strictly controlled temperature of the lab was similar to that of a crisp early spring day, cold enough to tickle the skin with goosebumps. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a clinical pallor on the polished surfaces and stainless steel countertops. The hum of advanced machinery echoes through labyrinthine corridors, each guarded by electronically sealed doors, concealing the clandestine experiments transpiring within.
 
But within the sterile confines hides a nasty, grim secret; in a special wing behind heavy-duty titanium doors with locks locked tighter than that of Fort Knoxx, experiments are conducted on kidnapped humans, animals, and Pokémon without their consent, hidden from the prying eyes of ethics committees and oversight. At times, the experiments get gruesome enough to the point of blood-curdling torture, and even so extreme that many were horrifically mutilated to their deaths for

███████

’s gain in their horrid research. Occasionally, you could faintly make out a human screaming for mercy or an animal wailing in pain. However, the sounds aren’t very noticeable, as they usually get drowned out by the digital humming and bleep-blooping of machinery that relentlessly fills the laboratory’s curious yet stern atmosphere. 
 
The laboratory had numerous rooms to conduct usually inhumane experiments on their hopeless victims. Victims would reside in a white room with nothing besides a square LED-powered light overhead. There was another room for facility members and workers to study the victim as the experiments progressed, the observation glass being a one-way mirror. Unmarked files, tucked away in secure cabinets, conceal the details of experiments that defy ethical norms and challenge the very essence of scientific morality. The faces of specialized laboratory facility members (also more commonly known as “Specialty Boffins” in the facility) betray a grisly tension, a tension heavy enough to seep through their monotonous full-face respirators and into one’s soul, a shared knowledge of the unsanctioned, law-rebelling pursuits occurring within the shadows of the facility’s lab wing. Whispers of discontent circulate among the researchers, their consciences burdened by the weight of the dark, traumatic truth they guard. As the line between ethical exploration and nefarious experimentation blurs, a discernible sense of discontent permeates the sickeningly sterilized dystopian air.
 
And at one of those rooms that have seen things that would not dare let others see or imagine, Reichard and Giovanni arrive for the anticipated, loathsome demonstration. One of the Specialty Boffins comes up to Giovanni, granting him entry into the test chamber, just before giving the Boss the aqua-colored box of blowdarts and the gun. The gun resembled a typical handgun in a dystopian-esk shade of carbon grey, with a narrow barrel for the blowdart to be loaded into and shot from, with the propellant being highly compressed CO2. It even had a futuristic pistol sight on top, the lens covered in a protective thick sheet of highly reinforced lavender aerogel.
 
Putting the gun in his pocket, two curious hands carefully opened the box, revealing three blowdarts with a hundred milligrams of the improved lycanthropium solution, the pressurized serum taking on an unnatural shade of pale blue. A cream-colored stopper covered the needle ends of them, and the feathered ends were an unyielding hue of red. Giovanni felt a sinful smile creepily grow by the second, excited to begin the testing.
 
A demanding finger points to one of the Specialty Boffins, with Giovanni ordering, “Would you mind bringing in a human subject to test on? One that is very young to be precise.”

“Are… are you saying… a child?”

A female SB would question.
 
Giovanni looked at the SB with a somewhat disgruntled look.

“What else did you think I wanted? A 20-year-old special needs douchebag? Of course I meant a child. Just get me one and don’t question it.”

“Y-y-y-you’re not going to use a literal child as a te-”

Giovanni seized the SB by her suit, yanking her close while staring daggers into her soul.

"Listen here you worthless film of pond scum.

Fetch me a damn child or take their place as the test subject!"

Eyes widening with fear, she replies hastily,
“S-s-sure thing, boss! I’m on it!”

“Good. Obey my commands and things won’t be personal. That includes all you members as well.”

As the SB went to grab a child for the Boss, Reichard would come over and take a gander at the new blowdarts, his eyes lighting up with amusement. Giovanni gives him one, the French man basking in all of the glory of the Aussie man’s

pièce de résistance two point oh.

The pale-blue serum-filled and FDA-violating blowdart slightly glistened in an ominous yet wonderful fusion of reflected, glimmering, ethereal light. It seemed to silently pulse with a mysterious, supernatural energy, hinting at its potent contents and what horrors it can make unfold within a human’s body.
 
Not much time has passed, and two SBs arrived with a little boy kicking and begging to be let go. Reichard returns the blowdart to Giovanni and heads into the observing room with the other SBs, the sealing door closing behind him.
 
“I wanna go home! I want my mommy and daddy! Let go of me!”
 
The other male SB, absent of any patience, roars to the child,

“Shut up! You best obey Operation Rocket or you’ll regret it, you little runt!”

Soon enough, the kid gave up, crying in defeat as the SBs got into position, them facing Giovanni with the kid facing the opposite way. Taking the blowdart gun out of his pocket, he took one of the blowdarts and carefully loaded it into the barrel. Giovanni then awaits the go-ahead, in the meantime getting into a shooting position and ensuring the gun’s aim onto the child’s back.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

The male SB gave the go-ahead, giving a thumbs-up. “You’re free to pull the trigger.”
 
Giovanni’s finger did not hesitate, applying quick pressure on the trigger. It clicked back, causing a short burst of compressed CO2 to propel the blowdart out the barrel at high speed, the gun recoiling back slightly. To his surprise, it wasn’t as loud as expected, only as noisy as a conventional Nerf gun you would find at a toy store.
 
The blowdart forcefully punches into the kid’s back, piercing through the shirt’s fabric and injecting the lycanthropium solution within a second. A deafening wail from the kid’s throat abruptly filled the room, startling the two SBs but not being able to faze the boss in the slightest, and another fit of horrible crying ensued. Giovanni walked to the sobbing kid, and yanked the blowdart out of the child’s back without any regard for any amount of suffering, the SBs letting go of them onto the floor.
 
In the meantime, part of the wall opposite the observing room folded up, revealing a glass-concealed compartment with a chunk of dusty moon rock. A bright ultraviolet light flickered to life, bathing the room in a pale blue glow that mimicked the macabre luminescence of Earth’s natural satellite. The eye-protection technology embedded into the two SBs full-face masks activated instantly. Giovanni put on some UV-protective glasses, and the UV-resistant film on the one-way glass protected Reichard and the other facility members from the somewhat harsh UV light. Suddenly, moments later a feeling of mysterious dread filled the boy’s body, and he whimpered in fear of what could happen to him.
 
As soon as that feeling devoured his body, a stinging sensation of pins and needles tortured him, starting at his hands, fur, as brown as the earth, pushed through the little boy’s young, soft, and delicate skin. He would continually cry out

“Owie!!”

as more dog-like fur sprouted out, eyes widening in trepidation and welling with a tsunami of tears at the sight. The flesh within the boy’s fingertips and palms slowly swelled, the skin on the increasingly puffy parts becoming pink, taking on a somewhat rough, callus-like texture but still retaining a reasonable amount of softness. With leathery yet soft paw pads uncomfortably materializing into existence and making their skin painfully tight, his nails darkened into a rich, earthy color, growing longer and more canine.

“What’s happening to my hands?! What are you doing to me?!”

the poor, confused child cried out, desperate for Giovanni's sympathy, only to be met with a sinister and remorseless grin.
 
With hands folded neatly behind his back, Giovanni replied,

“That should be the least of your worries. How about you worry about nothing else besides obeying Operation Rocket and keeping quiet, hmm?”

Unbeknownst to the boy, the changes would get gruesome, and rest assured anyone, it isn’t gonna be pretty in the slightest.
 
With the brown fur stopping at his wrist and now venturing up the poor boy’s arm as a lighter shade of brown, nerve-stabbing changes and rearrangements of the skeletal structure in his hands soon took place. The moment when bones began to explode apart, dislocate, fuse, and reshape haphazardly, a startlingly strident shriek of torment bellowed from the kid’s throat, him clutching his hands as the dexterity of them gradually atrophied. As the kid screamed out bloody murder, the female SB cowardly looked away, and even the male SB could not help but cringe slightly at the sight and earshot of it. However, Giovanni did not show a single emotion or hint of sympathy as he just stood there, menacingly.
 
More changes relentlessly continued as the artificial moonlight performed its dark, spine-chilling magic onto the boy, him now undergoing a horrendous pain-fueled fit of extreme sobbing. Flesh and tendons stressfully tore apart and healed back up, reconstructing into another mammal no longer recognizable as human. Most blood vessels within the increasingly dehumanizing hands would tear apart, temporarily bleeding and shifting about. The furry digits, looking closer to that of a canine with their current features, shrunk down in length and became significantly diminutive. Both thumbs started deflating like balloons and moved further up to their wrists, becoming nothing more than useless dewclaws.
 
While the first changes occurred, Reichard couldn’t help but put his face close to the protective glass with his hands resting against it, much like a young child seeing the coolest featured Christmas toy being proudly showcased for all to see. Everything (sometimes mostly just important observations) during the test run was written down onto big yellow notepads by the other spectating researchers.
 
Eventually, the progressing changes on his hands came to a hesitant halt, the pain diminishing greatly but still cramping an awful lot. Just one glance, one at his now mangled-up mess for hands and the UV-illuminated moonrock, was all it took for him to realize what was happening.

“NO!!! DON’T MAKE ME BECOME A WEREWOLF!!! I’M SCARED OF THEM AND HAVE NIGHTMARES INVOLVING THEM!!! DON’T DO THIS TO ME!!!”

Giovanni did nothing but chuckle at the kid, not caring about the agony or trauma he had to go through, but instead of how the experiment results would turn out. The poor, suffering boy began to hyperventilate, his muscles tightening up due to the body’s natural instinctual defenses, which will do nothing but cause more unwanted pain and agony.

“PLEASE!!! I DON’T WANNA BECOME MY WORST FEAR!!! I BEG Y-AWOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

As the kid begged relentlessly for mercy, another shot of pain caught him off guard, this time at his tailbone. This made him howl like a dog in pain, sounding much like a puppy. Out of sheer shock, he swiftly covered his mouth, his heart skipping a few beats.

His voice was on the verge of changing!

Small yet nerve-stabbing amounts of flesh steadily pulled outwards from around the tailbone and body, with calcium being sucked away and collected together to form new vertebrae to extend the end of the spine. With a new appendage forcing its way through the boy’s pants, the kid could not help but wail his eyes out in physical torment while writhing in excruciation, the tail curling up while also growing a fluffy coat of cream-colored fur. During this, a wave of light brown fur sidled down his back and sides, with the same cream-colored fur from the tail tearing through the skin on his chest, belly, and crotch.
 
The kid’s body temperature steadily rose as more fur traveled down his legs. The world around him seemed to grow with each passing moment, Giovanni and the SB’s looking as if they were becoming giants. Eyes glistening with overflowing tears, he looked up at Giovanni, hoping to find at least a drop of sympathy from the evil Italian mobster.

Test Subject Boy used Normal-Type Status Move “Tearful Look!”

Giovanni’s Hidden Ability: Iron-Fisted Empathy.

It did not have any effect on Giovanni.

Giovanni’s Ability: Intimidate.

Test Subject Boy’s Attack dropped!

Giovanni used Dark-Type Status Move “Menacing Look!”

Test Subject Boy has been frozen in place with fear! He cannot flee and may not be able to attack!

Test Subject Boy’s Attack Accuracy has severely dropped!

The newly growing appendage ripped through the boy’s pants, leaving a hole and ruining them. New nerves grew and flared to life, his still-developing brain being fed new yet confusing information about the alien appendage, new muscle tendons materializing and programming themselves. With a new way of expressing emotions, the boy tucked his newly formed tail between his legs, letting Giovanni know more clearly of the intimidation and traumatizing levels of pain he’s forced to undergo.
 
But alas, he didn’t give one single fuck about the boy’s well-being, instead basking in the glory of some poor kid becoming a werewolf, or in this instance, a werepuppy.
 
The horrid orchestra of pain kept on strumming its hellacious strings, performing a symphony of torment to the tempo of the devilish conductor's dramatic, exaggerated, yet rhythmic dance. All thanks to the lycanthropium solution and the artificial moonlight, effectuating the unfolding memory-scarring spectacle.
 As a wave of soft brown fur began coating the kid’s feet, he growled out with tears in his eyes, “You’ll eventually pay forrrrr doing this you f-ARF!” just before covering his mouth once again in shock.

“Like as if an insignificance such as you would do anything against a tyrant who should be feared. Why not cry about getting revenge against me to your parents instead? Oh wait, you can’t; you’re stuck here with me while they are worried sick about your sorry ass.”

The elongation, a poignant echo of the transformation in his fingers, unfolded with mesmerizing grace, gradually shaping the toenails into a more pronounced canine form. In tandem with this evolution, the toenails embraced a deepening shade, mirroring the earthy hues that adorned his front paw claws. The tapestry of change continued its intricate weaving as the pads of the boy's feet, previously unnoticed in their ordinary state, emerged as a canvas of profound alteration. Swelling and expanding with an ethereal yet unnerving elegance, they underwent a tangible metamorphosis, adopting a newfound plumpness and softness akin to the tender pads found on the paws of a young puppy, the skin fading into a delicate shade of pink.
 
Pain, sharp and relentless, coursed through every nerve ending, repeatedly stinging him like a swarm of aggravated Beedrills as his flesh and bones reconstructed into a more canine anatomy. Distressing sounds of bones cracking and exploding apart almost deafeningly echoed in the surrounding UV-lit whiteness, and flesh screamed in protest with the traumatizing paranormal sensations of metamorphosis filling his legs and feet. The digits of his feet swelled and expanded, becoming more evenly sized and stubbier by each passing moment. His big toe shrunk down, traveling up his foot like a nomadic tribe during the shifting seasons, before losing any leftover dexterity within them, becoming meaningless dewclaws. His ears changed, becoming somewhat elven-shaped, clemently covered in a soft coat of fur, brown for the tips, and the light variety for the rest, as they moved up towards the top of his head. Their ability to hear went away briefly, drowning him in the deafening symphony of silence.
 
Simmering with more pain, the flesh and bones within them began to reconstruct into something more quadruped. Fibers within the muscles shredded apart, his flesh pulling and folding in agonizing display, with multiple blood vessels breaking open, causing significant bruising underneath the skin. The formerly human ears have finished their migration, resting atop their head before flopping forward like an Espurr’s ears. Bones audibly cracked apart in a traumatizing symphony of hurt, the artificial moonlight powerfully beckoning the reprogramming of the boy’s legs as he regained his hearing, but this time, things seemed louder to the child from the increased eardrum sensitivity.
 
Despite the transitorily yet agonizingly ponderous, morbid metamorphosis that kept dancing about in the artificial moonlight, the little boy astonishingly mustered everything left within his waning power to get onto two feet, his resilience clinging to the edges of consciousness. He kept on powering through the changes, his heels moving up his legs before the bones in his heels morphed into a canine hock joint. Toughing it out from the onslaught of sensory-depraving hailstorms storming his nervous system, the poor, suffering boy growled at Giovanni, struggling to take every step closer on his ever-changing legs. His legs trembled similarly to a plucked guitar string, his ability to stand upright slowly becoming more of an unachievable yet alien feat, his canines sharpening into fierce yet little fangs.
 
Giovanni sensed a growing threat from the now half-human-half-werepuppy, realizing the possibility of the half-human child throwing paws at him angrily. His menacing smile soon bent backward, more facial muscles working to create a hostile facial expression. Giovanni’s dagger-throwing stare warned the kid to think about his motives twice before discovering the consequences. But an unknown wave of bravery overcame the kid; he ignored the non-verbal warning, still walking forward with unsteady steps that had the stability of an ever-growing Jenga tower. At the same time, many sharp and dark brown stones pierced through the skin around his neck, with some cream-colored fur sprouting around the neck.
 
Observing that his menacing disposition didn’t have any effect on the child, he sternly says while pointing a finger,
“You listen here, damn child. If you so dare lay a finger on me, I will revoke your right to live, and I have no problem doing so toward any test subject that dares not obey me, Operation Rocket, or ███████.”
 
To no avail, the kid kept growling at the Italian mafia boss, powering through the hellish agony of lycanthropy, trying to take another increasingly wobbling step forward. This surprised Giovanni somewhat, since his menacing atmosphere that overpowered anyone else’s usually was the one to do the talking for him. Being the boss of a nearly three-decade-old Italian-American mafia and having next to naught patience with a petite fuse, seeing the kid dare try to show any amount of bravery and defiance against him didn’t sit very well.

“Very well then. If my words aren’t enough to scare you into obeying, then my five-fingered friend will do the talking instead.”

With a swift, suppressive move, Giovanni clenched his right fist and got himself into an offensive stance, pulling back his arm. Then, the wrecking ball that was his fist came forward at steeply increasing speeds, hurling toward the kid’s left cheek like a diving peregrine falcon. The slowly changing kid had next to no time to react, his eyes widening in fear just before the screamingly raging fist met his face.
 
Before anyone could react, his fist had reached the kid’s left cheek, smashing right into it, similar to a doomsday asteroid crashing into earth.
 
An ear-shattering, piercing squeal of pain that sounded more like a puppy’s scream than a human’s, filled and startled the room for a good second. He instinctually covered his face as he fell onto his side, beginning to wail and howl horrendously in torment. The female SB shuttered immensely in horror, her eyes widening in disbelief at what Giovanni had remorselessly done, overwhelmed emotions consuming the specialty boffin. However, out of fear of being punished for showing emotions to test subjects, she had no choice but to suck it all up. With the floodgates that kept the crying flood at bay mewling under the depressing pressure, she did everything in her power to not show any emotion with tears trickling down her cheek.
 
While those floodgates sprung many leaks, still giving their all to fulfill their protective duty despite the waning supply of strength, she closed her eyes while waging war with the traumatic memories that hauntingly ate at her from inside.

“NIE… (NO…)

Proszę… (Please…)

Nie chcę pamiętać… (I don't want to remember…)

Jaki ból i cierpienie musiałam znosić… (What pain and suffering I had to endure…)

Jakie nadużycia wywołane wódką musiałem tolerować… (What vodka-induced abuses I had to tolerate…)

To, co mój okropny mąż zrobił mojej jedynej córce… (What my horrible husband did to my only daughter…)

Chcę odwrócić wzrok, ale nie mam innego wyjścia, jak tylko zostać i patrzeć, bo inaczej zostanę ukarany za swoje tchórzostwo… (I want to look away, but I have no choice but to stay and watch, otherwise I will be punished for my cowardice…)

W co się wpakowałem? (What have I gotten myself into?)

Jakie jeszcze straszne plany ma ten potwór? (What other terrible plans does this monster have?)

Gdybym tylko mógł zrobić coś innego niż być czyimś pionkiem i wykonywać ruchy, przeciwko którym nie mam nic do powiedzenia… (If only I could do something other than be someone's pawn and make moves I have no say against…)

...Byłbym w stanie wymierzyć sprawiedliwość mojej drogiej dziewczynie Grażynie. (...I would be able to bring justice to my dear girl Grażyna.)”

Sudden trauma to the face agitated the progressing changes, causing them to hasten much quicker and radiate almost radioactive levels of affliction. A tidal wave of light brown canine fur flooded outwards from ground zero, where Giovanni’s fist of tyrannizing iron came into contact. The tsunami of fur covered the kid’s face in a soft layer not even moments later, with the mouth and nose area covered in an earthy brown color. Finally, the shrinking of his body came to an abrupt halt, just before a solar flare of pain grew to hellish heights around his mouth and nose area.
 
Deafening and increasingly canine wails stormed within the chamber-like room, with the poor kid’s screams of agony escaping into the laboratory’s halls. His pain receptors screamed zip-bomb levels worth of information to his still-developing brain, overloading his senses as his face mercilessly elongated by the centimeter. Giovanni couldn’t help but burst into joyful yet cold-blooded laughter, seeing the “test drive” slowly become a success while euphorically taking in the child’s suffering. He didn’t just find it music to his demented ears, no…

…He basked it all in with both ears and tear-glistening eyes as if it were a sacred symphony composed by a god, with every inky note delicately composed by every blessed stroke, written with a fountain pen of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds onto sugar paper lovingly infused with gold and silver leaf, inside none other than possibly the holiest place on earth, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre!!!

The awful, traumatizing caterwauls were enough to trigger the female SB further, causing more horrid memories of her abusive ex to begin drowning her in a pit as inescapable as tar. As her troublesome past returned to haunt her full force, the urge to cry suddenly vanished, starting to feel numbed by the PTSD-inducing experiments Giovanni demanded
███████
to conduct with an iron fist. Her eyes would even lock into a mindless thousand-mile stare, much like a World War II soldier silently recalling their days out on the battlefield, watching their comrades get mowed down by Nazi-driven forces as they fought for what they were taught as right, and trying to protect the vision of an American dream that would unfortunately never turn out to become a reality.
 
Even worse, she was the only one in the testing chamber who had not only sympathy for the child, but a thought process not rotted away from feeding the evil that hungrily lurks within the minds of every person.
 
Surprisingly, as eternal as the agony and unstoppable changes seemed, it was all over in a heartbeat. Small last-minute transformations quietly took place within the werepup’s body, starting to feel tension on his spine while mustering out whines from his ravaged vocal cords. The kid had no more energy left to scream out in pain, simply laying limp on the barren white floor, hesitantly admitting defeat against the blinding ultraviolet.
 
But just when he thought it had all finished up, his spine snapped into a different position, letting out a blood-curdling

CRACK!!!

This made being quadruped instinctually natural while making being biped more…
 
…Awkward and challenging to do.

“ROCKRUUUUUUUUUFF!!!!!!!!!”

The opposing Test Subject Boy suddenly fainted from the excruciating pain…

Giovanni has won!

And just like that, the test run concluded, the UV light shutting off as the bit of wall folded back into place, concealing the compartment into a solus, solitude of darkness. UV-protecting eyewear was deactivated or removed shortly after, with silence following to process the boy’s unethical new abilities. Inky blueish-black letters that formed words, quickly but neatly written with salient events, flooded every line within the notepads’ hopeful yet grim yellow pages. The room was left in astonishment, silently echoing with the torment that the kid had gone through. Everyone could hardly fathom the reality that unfolded before their own eyes, even if they had seen it when that Aussie psycho was still kickin’ and makin’ the facility a better (and more sinister) place.

Some may find themselves morbidly amused, unable to take their eyes off the grotesquely beautiful trainwreck that is lycanthropy in action. Others may be horrified, their primal fears triggered by the sight of a creature that defies the laws of nature. And still, others may be left speechless, their feeble human minds devoid of such horrors, being left with no reasonable path to attempt to comprehend the sight presented to them.

Reichard, brimming with joy and nostalgia at witnessing his partner in crime’s creation in action again, exclaimed,

“It's… perfect…!”

Meanwhile, Giovanni just stood there, slowly clapping with a look of satisfaction, eyes closed alongside a prominently growing smile.

“You fellow scientists and researchers never fail to impress… Pat yourselves on the back and color me amused.”

He continues, pointing at the female SB,

“You can impress me more if you suck it up and not whimp out so often. I’ll leave you to do the rest.”

Her eyes widened, feeling her soul leave her body. Had he noticed her sympathy for the child this entire time? Did he see the tears trickling through the cracks of her stoic facade? 
 
Terror gripped her as she contemplated the consequences, envisioning the gravest punishments she might ever receive. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, suffocating her with its severity. But amidst the silent yet poignant turmoil, a flicker of resignation emerged. It's better to accept her fate and comply with the boss's orders, no matter how unjust they seem.
 
Sucking up her tears, she gets onto one shaky knee and gently picks up the Rockruff-ified child, its body limply hanging in her arms, echoing a familiar yet hauntingly lifeless aura. Pathetic memories of what she lost years ago drowned her in a deathly riptide of despair, the deafening inner thoughts disorientating the SB beyond focus.
 
“Quit having sympathy for the child, you pitiful excuse for a human being! Drop that heart of gold and do what the boss says!”
 
Giovanni diffuses the dilemma long before it has time to pick up, calmly yet sternly speaking out,

“Hey, Gavin! Enough. I’ll deal with her later; you don’t have to do my damn job. Just make this easy for all of us and get rid of the test subject now, that's all I ask.”

“Ugh, fine. If she wants to be the wimp she’s always been, then I’ll do it my damn self.

Stupid retards wasting their feelings on a test subject…

” He voiced through tightly clenched teeth.
 
He roughly grabs the poor fainted Rockruff kid from the female SB’s arms, grabbing onto the scruff of the neck as if it were a cat in big trouble. The door unseals from the wall, providing an exit for the unnecessarily disgruntled male SB.

“Whore!!!”

A silence of deafening atmosphere pierced the two rooms, instilling in everyone a brief moment of disconcertion as if the child's suffering wasn’t even considered one in the first place. Meanwhile, the other SB could no longer hold in her bottled-up emotions, sobbing softly as they fully knew the others had seen their sympathy for the child. She didn’t care about keeping it in anymore, even if the others saw her as being weak because of it.

Sympathy for a test subject is, of course, naturally human, but here at

███████

? Suffice it to say, as cruel and unruly as it may be for some to accept…

…it's rather frowned upon.

Especially when you consider the fact that the whole place is run by an Italian mafia boss devoid of any heartfelt emotions…

…alongside mobsters of varying backgrounds willing to perform the gruesomest actions, all for wealth…

…for luxury

…appraisal…

…drugs and sex…

…power…

…secrecy…

…and unfair superiority over the public to further fuel their insatiable egos.

“I understand that I can get much at times, but him? Not very acceptable, I need to talk with him about his behavior. Reichard has many other behavioral issues but controls them much better than he does. And for Anelia? She’s not exactly in trouble, but I may need to have a word with her,”
 
He sighs, the relieving sensation filling his usually toughened, tight-muscled body.
 
Quickly following up calmly yet proudly, he continues, “But regardless, I loved every moment. You scientists and SBs continue to impress me in the most extraordinary ways. Experiment dismissed.”
 
As everybody in the two rooms parted ways, off to do other jobs and document the new blowdarts, Giovanni folded his hands behind his back, Reichard following in tow. The two rooms were soon emptied of people, with the boss and Reichard now exiting the sterile confines of the grim laboratory. Warmer yet still cool air, musty with the summer heat yet familiar enough to be separated from the now mixed air, enveloped them in a wave, feeling close to that of gassy water.
 
While walking with Giovanni towards their office, Reichard's phone vibrates a few times. Wondering what notifications managed to burst through his phone’s “Do Not Disturb” mode, he reach into his pocket before pulling it out. 
 
Ripples: Super Secure Messaging Network For Businesses

A2. Carlos has sent you 3 messages. Click to view more…

“Yo Holmes!”

“That ‘Someone-Someone’ I mentioned last week is available to arrange plans with you and the boss.”

“LMK when you’re ready ASAP!”

The devious French man smiles, a newfound excitement unlike anything else filling him like a car at a gas station.

“Just in time, mon ami.”

A2. Carlos is about to make a ripple…

“Ah, am I, esse?”

“Couldn’t have been more spot on.”

A2. Carlos is about to make a ripple…

“Alright! I’ll let ███ ████████ know! He can’t wait to make a good game plan with the boss!”

Giovanni turns around and sees Reichard on his phone texting away to Carlos. A raised eyebrow could be seen on the boss’s face.

“Any new information arising, Reichard?”

Reichard puts away his phone shortly after sending one last text…

“Come to his office when you can.”

…before uttering two words.

“He’s ready.”

<=To=Be=Continued=\\\