Werewolf in the shadows

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punxnotdead
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Werewolf in the shadows

Post by punxnotdead »

This is a werewolf story and I wanted to take a different spin on it. I would really appriceate any comments...it helps motivate me to write.


Werewolf in the shadows
By: Rachel Plumb

Prologue
Werewolf in the shadows... It was a time before advanced technology existed, before the world was rotting away. I lived three centuries ago on a small plot of land in which I raised cattle, sheep, and chickens. I was only twenty-three at the time, naive, but not incompetent. I was bathed with youthful innocence, I had seen no wars, nor had I seen a man die. I lived with one sister and my parents in a small shack. It was dusk; the clouds overhead were a deep crimson hue, obscuring the turquoise of the sky beneath. The warm breeze wafted from the mountains, brining with it the sweet scent of rain and flowers. I traipsed through the long grass of the m55eadows for some time until I reached the edge of my territory.
My surroundings grew in near darkness as I headed home. A forest skirted the trail I walked, with the trees looming threateningly above, sighing in the gentle breeze. My ears detected a faint murmur in the forest to my left. My eyes flickered to the forest and struggled to see the darkness. From the shadows appeared two incandescent eyes, glimmering gold in the night. It stood only ten yards from me as it took slow deliberate steps. The creature appeared from the darkness and into a small patch of light, revealing a short grey pelt and a thick black mane around its throat. The beast stood, by far, taller than a man, with hunched shoulders, and walked erectly. Shadows indicated prominent muscles and long white teeth jutted from its lips.
My pulse jumped in my chest and my throat constricted, unable to string comprehensible words together. Despite the terror exploding through my veins, I stood, unable to shuffle a foot. The beast probed me with its pallid eyes, a human expression flickering over its bestial face. I saw the shoulder muscles spasm and its mane quiver, and then it lunged.
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Post by Spongy »

Hmm...wrong section. Looks good though!
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story

Post by punxnotdead »

Oh, what section do I post it in, sorry...I'm kindda new to this
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Re: story

Post by Ashkin-Tyr »

punxnotdead wrote:Oh, what section do I post it in, sorry...I'm kindda new to this
This would belong in the "Creative Writing (werewolf based)" forum under "The Creative Den" section. I'm sure a moderator will move it soon, so don't worry about it too much. It's not like you're constantly making this mistake, so its easily forgivable.


At any rate, are you going to be writing anymore for this particular story? It's very interesting. :D
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Werewolf in the shadows

Post by punxnotdead »

Okay...I wanted to start off by saying after chapter 1 (20 pgs.) the first werewolf sequence will begin...comments are appriceated.

Chapter 1

Alex Ross rose to his feet with a numb expression on his face. A gut-wrenching grief threatened to consume him. “Guilty.” The words reverberated around his skull as he struggled to comprehend what had happened. He was too young; there was too much to live for. He didn't belong in prison. Not because he was wrongly convicted, but because he couldn't bear the thought of living four years in a slimy hellhole. However, the judge was finalized in his saying. Alex would return home for a brief gathering of his clothes and sent to juvenile correctional facility.

Why? He had almost killed someone. Alex remembered the day he had almost taken a man's life. He hadn't before felt such fury. Rage always existed in the depths of his mind that once unleashed, could not be controlled. He knew its source; it stemmed after his father's death. His father was murdered by a drug desperate teenager with a gun.
Willard Robinson chose the wrong person to quarrel with. Although the eighteen year old boy was two years older than he, Alex fought with unrestricted boundaries.

Will swung first, giving Alex the advantage to strike. Nevertheless, an ally of Will's stepped in and slashed Alex with his small pocket knife. The small blade seared across Alex's cheek, and it was then that the anger engulfed him. Uncontrolled, Alex lashed out with a menacing rage. He tore the knife from his grip and plunged the blade below his left breast.

Even now the memory sent shivers down his spine. Alex was lead out of the courtroom and outside where police cars were plentiful. The weather suited the mood. Grey clouds loomed above and an uneasy wind settled in. As Alex proceeded towards the police cars, a man stopped him. Although Alex and the man were similar heights, the man seemed a great deal taller and more intimidating. He peered over a large hooked nose with cool blue eyes and short white-blonde hair. His clean shaven face twisted into a warm smile. “Can I talk to you for a moment,” he said in a gruff voice and pointed to a small secluded area of the courtyard, “over there.”

Alex, still bemused by the man's sudden appearance, nodded and followed. The man stopped where no one could overhear their conversation and stuck out his hand, “Tom Crowell,” he said in a pleasant voice. Alex shook the man's hand, “Alex,” he said in a small voice.

Crowell began the conversation immediately, “I am the founder of Codoxin, a performance enhancer drug. The drug has been in the making for three years and now I've finally finished it. I am looking to recruit people to test this drug on.” Alex furrowed his brows, knowing now why the man was talking to him. “I hear you're headed for prison. I can get you out,” he said, fixing his gaze on Alex. Alex's heart leapt in his throat. Before he could speak, Crowell's hand shot up in the air, “if you agree to this one test, I can get you out of prison. I am a very influential man; all I need from you is your promise.”

Alex was at a loss for words. Perhaps if he took the offer, he could start anew; forget his old life. Alex nodded his head, “I'll do it,” he murmured. A straight toothed smile twisted on Crowell's face and his eyes flashed with...madness? He scribbled on the back of his business card and handed it to Alex.
“Don't tell anyone that we've met or anything about the procedure. Okay?” Alex nodded again and watched as the man walked off. He peered down at the card in his hand and studied it. Grande Street Saturday, 10:00 AM; largest building.

Alex's uncle, Derik, waited by the ramshackle car with increasing impatience flickering across his face as Alex shuffled torpidly towards him. The little hair that remained on his balding head was combed over with a cheap gel and the undersized brown suit resembled that of the homeless. In fact, his uncle was very poor and often he gambled what little money he did have. Not only that, but he spent his pay check on booze and cigarettes. Since Alex lost his job after the fight, there was no money for him to afford his groceries or clothes. The hulking man gave Alex dirty looks with his cold grey eyes, “where the hell have you been?” He snarled. Alex, still brimming with joy, shrugged and disappeared into the vehicle. When his uncle was in such a mood, it was best to keep conversation to a minimum. Even when his uncle had come home in better moods, he dared not converse with him too long.

It wasn't long before Alex received a phone call from the police dropping all charges. And now that Saturday had arrived, Alex had a growing anxiety about the test. He hadn't even asked Crowell about possible side effects or why this test was such a secret. Alex took the bus to Grande Street and made his way to a towering building; which was by far the largest building he had ever seen. Alex entered, his hands growing sweaty and his stomach squirming. He approached the front desk and waited for the secretary with a greater feeling of unease. He peered around the large area with marble floors and lavish paintings on the walls. The room was empty. He prickled his ears for any sound, but none came. “Hello,” he shouted in hopes someone would hear him and only his own voice echoed off the stone walls. The first thought occurred to him, twilight zone.
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