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Prologue - Hunting in Pairs

Saturday, August 13th, 2011 - Sugar Land, Texas

Moon Phase - Full

11:03 p.m.

Angela relaxed her tense posture after a moment of nothing but cricket chirps. If not for how clean the evening breeze was of strong human scents, the startled animal snorting she'd just heard would've prompted a retreat. A rethinking of her decision to tag along with Shane out here was already forming.

He continued moving before she did, drawing her attention as he passed. When he came to a stop near the edge of the brush patch, everything went quiet again.

"Ready?"

Shane's growl-laced, rumbling voice didn't catch Angela off-guard. "Which one? That doe?"

"The calf."

"That much meat...seems like a waste."

"Between us, it won't be." Shane resumed closing in on the stable after another stretch of silence, Angela tailing him in turn. With every few steps, a handful of the crickets in the brush around them stop chirping, as though they were tiny alarms hidden in the grass.

A pair of animal cries came again as they reached the edge of the brush patch, this time from the mare and the doe. With a quick glance at Shane, whose expression and attention hadn't changed, the sound got Angela to hurry ahead of him; within two seconds, she was diving from the steel bars into the calf's enclosure like a wrestler.

The calf sprung to life when she landed, her claws snagging its ribs and shoulders as it tried to stand and flee. The fearful cries it made as Angela wrestled with it left her ears ringing, and her attention distracted from the calf's thrashing hooves. She could hear them hitting and scraping concrete, the clacks not masking Shane's entry behind her, and then one of her legs was shoved. For half a second of adrenaline-fueled tension, Angela felt nothing besides the shove.

Then the pain hit, with needle-like stings from pulled fur, building heat around the impact spot, and the feeling that her femur had been bashed through her muscles. Angela rolled aside, her claws slipping from their hold on the calf.

Shane then rushed forward, tackling the startled animal into a corner of the enclosure before wrestling it to the ground by its head. His claws dug behind its skull as he held it down and in position for Angela. All around them, the fear-born animal noises were sounding; the doe and mare had yet to stop crying out, and now, along with the calf, a fowl had joined them.

After a second of no action on Angela's part, Shane's head tilted up. He saw her muzzle hanging open, her lips slack and her posture rocky, as though her confidence was gone. "Well?" Shane demanded. When Angela tried to move, a wince replaced her drained expression and one of her paws went for her thigh. A spreading red stain in her fur was what Shane saw next; how slowly she was gathering her composure pushed him to act first.

With a grasp of the calf's right shoulder, his claws punching into its flesh, his jaws spread and closed in on the animal's neck. His fangs went through the skin and muscle before something hard stopped them. He put more pressure into his bite. No leeway, and very little blood was meeting his tongue. He'd struck bone. A loosening of his jaws, and a twist of the calf's head, saw his bottom fangs hit bone again while his upper ones cut further in. The calf's blood was quick to flow over his fangs in response to the punctured vessel and his jaws once again relaxed, his tongue lapping the fluid on his teeth.

Angela, meanwhile, was holding back the trembling in her gut brought on by Shane's mauling of the calf; how strained its cries had suddenly become made it tougher. And then the many scents that composed fresh blood reached her muzzle. The familiar sensation of something akin to a bubble expanding within her stomach emerged, in stark contrast to how tense the many animal cries, and her injury, were leaving her.

As Shane got the calf's neck in his jaws, Angela at last glanced away, toward the enclosure's door. Its top was five feet high, at most. Short enough for someone to see over it easily. The sound of rigid tissue crunching then started and stopped. It repeated once, then again, with the calf going silent after the first repetition.

When Angela's attention returned to Shane, the calf was still pinned under his paws; his front teeth and fangs were tearing at a piece of muscle on the bovine's shoulder. With the once panic-stricken animals calming down, she heard nothing that could mean an immediate threat to them, but offered a suggestion as she came closer anyway. "Let's move this out of here."

"Later. We'll be fine." Shane's head didn't rise as he replied. Although Angela wanted to be assured of that, with their catch so close, a moment to reflect was all the incentive she needed to not protest. After picking her feeding spot, her fangs dug into the muscle, making a sizeable chunk to be pulled at.

Seconds later, Shane was growling.

Certain that no one had approached them, Angela glanced over to find him glaring at her, his teeth showing, his tongue flashing and his ears erect and stiff. The noise and his stare sent a shudder down her spine and around her chest, and she released the chunk she had.

Shane spoke when his growling relaxed. "I said we're fine."

"Not in here we're not."

"Then take the deer and go, if you're that scared of being seen."

Angela growled in response, to which Shane resumed feeding; until she was sure his attention was fully on the calf, she didn't move closer. Her fangs found a new spot on the calf's right leg, but Shane's growls began again, making her yank on the piece she had.

A sharp snarl during her second tug snapped her attention back to Shane. She almost missed the moment he lunged at her, and backpedaled in response. The pain from the gash in her leg almost forced her back down from the standing stance she'd stopped in.

Shane followed suit, standing over the calf, his attention not swaying from Angela's turned head. "You had your chance. Get your own, or wait." Until he began pacing backwards, the growling that had accompanied his demand continued; Angela refused to meet his gaze until he was back on all fours.

With her heart racing from the lunge and retreat, her attention changed to the rest of the stable's interior. She saw no one else, and no other animals. Just stored feed, empty enclosures and what looked like a locked main gate on the far-right side. A check of the other side followed, with a similar closed door on display. She couldn't bring herself to feel apologetic with the discovery, however.

And the sound of sirens in the distance enforced that feeling.

Angela tried not to worry when first hearing them, but as the siren volume rose, her sense of safety rapidly waned. It was when the sirens sounded less than three streets away that it vanished completely, and she made for the calf's legs. Taking one in both paws, she noticed Shane stop feeding and meet her gaze, his growls starting again. "Not the time. Let's go."

Shane's lunge a second later slammed her into the enclosure's wall, rattling her already racing heart. A snap of her jaws came in response, with Shane backing up just enough for her to swing an arm under one of his. When that arm found his shoulder, she dug it in, now snarling herself.

Shane mimicked her jaw snap, missing the first time before gauging his next strike. His jaws closed on Angela's muzzle, cutting off her snarls.

The needle-like pain from the bite pressure and Shane's teeth on her muzzle got Angela to reach for his head. She slapped her free paw down near his eyes, sparking a growl from him before her claws raked at his face. That was when her arm was snagged and held down, with Shane's other paw pressing her left shoulder into the wall behind her. Angela tightened her grip on Shane's shoulder in the hope of getting him off. His resultant snarl and the increased pressure on her muzzle killed that hope.

When her attention shifted back to the sirens, they sounded closer than before. Remembering the closed, and likely locked, stable doors didn't help calm her fears. Her breathing quickened when the siren wail sounded within a street of them.

And then the intensity dipped. No relief came to her in turn. Only frustration and anger.

Shane wrenched Angela's paw free of his shoulder when her grip loosened, his muzzle remaining clasped over hers for some time after. "After this, what I kill is mine." He said once he'd released his jaws. Angela huffed in response, refusing eye contact in favor of nursing her muzzle.

When Shane didn't return to the carcass, she inched her way towards it, her paws balled into fists. The gesture didn't escape Shane's notice and his attention stayed on her while they fed and hid the carcass.

Her defensive posturing and elevated pulse, both of which remained as they left the area, was evidence enough to him to be wary of her.

Chapter 1 - Of Comics and Company

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

As his potential new boss read over his resume, the hand that Alex Stryker was stroking his chin with moved to adjust his tie. He tugged at it twice, shifting in his seat afterward. If he asks what I can offer him, or the shop...what can I offer?

His attention wandered to the comics tacked to the walls after a few more seconds of silence; the issues that didn't depict superheroes kept his attention the longest. Gaming knowledge was the first thing he thought of. The shop had plenty of those products on offer. How well do those sell versus comics?

The sound of paper rustling and a thump against wood pulled his attention back to the man interviewing him.

"Alex, I've got a proposal for you."

A proposal?"What kind?"

"What say we skip the interview, and I just say, 'You're hired?'"

Alex shielded his mouth after a chuckle got away. "Just like that?"

"Yeah. Just like that."

"I wasn't expecting that."

"Very few of my employees were."

"Hmm..." As Alex pieced together the rest of his sentence, a shot of horror mixed with his elated mood. His boss's name was escaping him. Oh, boy. "...if there's no need for an interview...then..."

"We can talk for a while. That does the job better, I think."

"Sounds good." Gah, what's his name?

His boss nodded, then glanced at his resume. "From what I read, I take it games are your specialty."

"PC and console games, yeah. My tabletop list is...kinda small."

"I wouldn't say so. Most role-players I know stick with one to three games they like. Of course, there are the miniature war games, board games, card games, etc."

"Do the gaming nights cover any of them? Or just role-playing?"

"Only role-playing currently, but they'll expand to board games soon."

Alex nodded in response.

"Speaking of boards, I've noticed you always have a skateboard with you when you're here."

"Yeah. Been riding since I was nine."

"Ten years?" Alex nodded again. "Impressive. You know any tricks?"

"Quite a few. Flip tricks and grinds, mostly. Truth be told though, I spend more time riding around than seriously practicing."

"That's better than me. The last time I rode a skateboard, I couldn't keep my balance on it."

"Those days I barely remember." When he was met with silence, Alex changed the subject. "About the position though, anything I should know before my first day?"

"When your first day comes, you'll be walking the floor and getting a feel for where everything is. Most of our regulars know their way around, but you will get the occasional question, or be asked to find something."

"And if I'm not sure about something, ask you or one of the guys for help."

"Exactly. That's pretty much everything you really need to know."

"I'm anticipating a few comic discussions on that day already."

"There's some big changes coming from DC soon, but don't worry about trying to memorize everything coming out. Much as I enjoy their stuff, even I can't keep track of every issue and plot twist they publish. Still, it goes without saying that working with the public will be part of your job, so the more you know about what's going on in the comic industry or in the stories you like, the better."

Alex responded with a short list of the comics he'd enjoyed most during his last few weeks of hanging out in the store. Two of them drew lengthy responses from his boss, which he worked to follow and question when his interest was piqued.

Sometime later, Alex's phone began ringing, cutting their discussions short in the middle of something his boss was saying. He fumbled for the volume control, nerves chilled from embarrassment shock. "Thought I turned that off. My apologies."

He got no comment from his boss about the interruption, but rather the time. "Three forty already?"

"Something need doing?" Alex asked.

"No. Just surprised that much time got away from us." As his boss got up from his seat, Alex followed suit. "I'll be back in a minute, unless you need to leave right now."

"Nah, I'm in no rush."

"In that case, if you want, you can head out into the store while I get a few things for you."

"I'll wait here. Thank you for your time, sir." Alex held out his hand for his boss, hoping, as it was gripped and shaken, that 'sir' was a professional enough stand-in for not knowing his name. Once he was alone however, his hands went to work, digging around in his pockets for the shop's business card. He located it in his back-right pocket. Trevor Young. Damnit. How did I forget that?

The still present tightening of his flesh and chill around his back lingered until he was out on the sales floor with the stuff Trevor gave him: two company T-shirts, a sheet of paper, and a lanyard with his nametag.

As he approached the front counter, Marcus, one of his longtime friends, turned to face him, setting aside the trade he was reading in turn. "So, how'd it go?" he asked.

Alex held the T-shirts as though they were victory flags. "Looks like you and I are co-workers now."

"See? Told ya." Marcus replied, his expression barely budging.

"Yeah, it wasn't all flying colors. I completely forgot Trevor's name in there."

"Don't sweat it. He doesn't care that much, and there's worse things to forget during an interview."

Alex shrugged. "I guess. Anyway, thanks for recommending me to him."

Marcus nodded once in response. "You're welcome, man." He glanced around the store once before continuing. "So, you heading home, or sticking around?"

With the time still fresh in his mind, Alex went with the latter idea and headed for the role-playing section of the shop; Bailey had been sleeping soundly when he left the house hours ago, and his folks would be home by six.

After recovering the rulebook he'd been reading before the interview, he leaned into the shelving and thumbed to where he'd left off. To a pair of pages with columns of rules sandwiched between two opposing pieces of magic-themed art.

Every so often as he read, Alex checked his phone for updates. Another IM beep drew his attention when five fifteen came around.

Catherine W. : Six-thirty. Don't forget.

"That from Catherine?" Marcus asked from the register.

"Yeah," Alex said as he put the book back and pocketed his phone. "Man, am I gonna be sad when summer's over."

"Not me. I'm ready to get back to class."

"Because you graduate in a year. I've got three of those left."

"Enjoy the easy years while they last, man," Marcus said as he stepped out from behind the counter to get another trade.

"Yeah," After a fingering though of the trade-in box he stood next to, Alex headed for the counter, asking for his backpack and helmet as he came close. "I'm going on ahead, so I'll see you guys there," he said as he stuffed his backpack with what Trevor had given him.

"I can't interest you in a comic or two before you leave?"

Alex noticed the smirk on Marcus's face when he looked up. "Nice try."

"Alright then. Later." With a wave to his friend in response, the glare of the setting sun forced Alex to squint once outside. The sounds of vehicles driving on the nearby highway, and the lone, blaring horn, drew his attention as he walked towards his motorcycle.

Except for the days when it was raining profusely, or the wind was cold enough to bite through his choice of jacket, the bike had seen use throughout and since his final two years of high school. It wasn't until his first year of college that his folks began suggesting a move to a sedan, for safety, and insurance, reasons. Alex had resisted the idea since that same time; he'd owned the bike for years, and riding it was more enjoyable than driving a bulky four-wheeled vehicle. Plus, it already did the job of getting him from A to B.

After a check of his backpack for anything left unzipped and a buttoning up of his jacket, a turn of the ignition key cranked the bike's engine with a sharp revving. When Alex arrived at the restaurant, none of the cars his friends drove where there.

Once inside and with a soda and water purchased, the subtitles on the restaurant's lone TV kept his attention until his phone was pulled out and the browser opened.

The first tab to load was a week-old news article. One detailing the discovery of a mauled and gutted calf carcass near his old high school. Alex skimmed it before switching to another tab; the event had first come to his attention thanks to his father, but how gruesome and unusual it was kept the article among his open tabs.

When Nathan arrived around six-o-clock, Alex waved him over. "Hey, man." Nathan continued once his jacket was set down. "Did the interview take that long?"

Alex shook his head. "Nah, just didn't feel like going home and getting changed."

"Alright. I'm getting an appetizer. You?"

"Nothing yet. Just got a refill."

Nathan nodded in response, returning soon after with a glass of soda and a receipt. "So, how did the interview go?"

Alex's response was delayed thanks to the grin creeping over his face. "That's the thing...there wasn't one."

Nathan raised both eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yep. My boss read my resume, then hired me on the spot. Everything else was him and me chatting."

"Huh. Interesting."

Alex nodded in response and the table went quiet until Nathan posed another question. "Oh, hey. Any updates from your dad about that calf from last week?"

"I haven't asked him about it since last time, but he hasn't said anything else about it either."

"So, the official story is still wolves?"

"Yeah, unless something comes up that changes things. By this point though, that's probably the story."

A brief silence followed Alex's response. "Kinda hard to believe wolves would come around here."

"There is that park across the highway from the school, don't forget."

"True, but that park isn't that big."

"It's big enough to hide a few wolves. As for them living around there, yeah, that's hard to believe."

"I keep thinking coyotes did it. Those I have seen around here."

"Makes sense, but coyotes feed on bugs and rodents more than livestock."

"Still possible though."

"Yeah it is."

An IM beep interrupted both of them a second later; the message was from Marcus, saying he and Catherine were on their way.

As he and Nathan waited for them, the calf remained on Alex's thoughts. His father's rank of lieutenant in the Sugar Land Police Department had brought numerous stories and happenings to his attention over the years, the curiosity of his friends trailing in the wake of the more unusual or gruesome ones.

It wasn't until Marcus and Catherine arrived, and everyone's meals were ordered, that the event was forgotten in favor of small talk and planning the rest of the week.

"I'd say we're set for Saturday, then." Catherine said as she took the first bite of her meal; the four of them had since agreed on a mall hangout for that day. "Any other ideas for stuff to do?"

"Let me see..." Nathan pulled out his smartphone. "Are there any good movies out this week?"

"None that I can think of." Marcus said.

"Huh...yeah, there's a few we could see...not that one, though."

Alex leaned over to check the title. "Yeah, I wouldn't watch that one either."

The silence afterward lasted only a second, with Marcus breaking it. "I've got nothing. The mall and a movie is plenty for me, though."

"Same here."

"Hopefully I won't get a last-minute fill-in call that day." Nathan said.

"You and me both." Catherine replied.

"Speaking of fill-ins, that reminds me." Alex glanced towards Marcus. "Does Trevor call-in new hires mid-week, for training and all that?"

Marcus shook his head. "If someone calls in, he may, but otherwise, no."

"Alright. Just making sure." When Alex's thoughts went to his soon-to-be-past vet tech job, a twinge of discomfort hit his chest.

Chapter 2 - "We have a 10-67."

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

The sensation lingered until the dinner was over and he and his friends began leaving. As Marcus held the door for everyone, Nathan's tapping of his shoulder got Alex's attention. "Hey, we still filming tonight?" he asked.

"Um...what time is it?" Seeing eight oh two on his phone's lock screen, Alex continued. "Yeah, there's still time."

"Then I need to run home and get the camcorder. The battery needed some charging." Alex nodded in response and the both of them settled on meeting at the skatepark; while en route, the camera angles Alex wanted to experiment with stayed among his thoughts.

He arrived to find no other vehicles in the parking lot, the dead street lamps allowing the moonlight to illuminate the lot. Figuring Nathan wasn't far behind, Alex removed his helmet and reached for the motorcycle's ignition key. A noise louder than his bike's rumbling engine reached him before it was turned. It was brief, and unclear.

Alex killed the engine and listened. For a moment, he figured it had been someone screwing around in the neighborhood further west. After several seconds of nothing, he shrugged and got off his bike.

The noise came to him again, as brief as before but much clearer. It was a scream. How close it now sounded chilled his flesh and glued his feet to the ground, his pulse building by the second. The only movement he made before the sound of a vehicle behind him got his attention was the inching of his hand into his pocket for his phone.

That same vehicle was Nathan's. He pulled up close, window down and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Thought I heard a scream..." Alex pointed towards the end of the street, "over there, somewhere."

Nathan replied after a few seconds of glancing around. "Think we should get the police?" Before Alex answered, he continued. "Actually, got an idea."

As his friend put his car into a new gear, Alex's attention switched between the scream's supposed location and Nathan's backing up and turning to his right. Another gear shift sounded, and the car was then moving forward.

_Good thinking, man._Alex trailed the car on foot, relaxing a bit with each step. His attention remained on the spot he thought the scream had come from, until his second glance inside Nathan's car showed his hand resting on the horn.

His friend leaned into his horn for almost three seconds, after which Alex felt numerous invisible eyes looking their way, and his pulse rising. Nathan honked once again before pressing the accelerator, Alex jogging to keep up. They both stopped at the end of the street's cul-de-sac, with Nathan keeping his car in drive.

"Around here, you think?" Nathan asked, keeping his voice low.

"Could be...I'll check that field behind the pool." Alex stepped away after adding that he'd wave if he saw anything. His initial walking speed was slow and cautious, but hearing only his footsteps against the concrete eased his nervousness and his pace.

When he rounded the corner, Alex's attention quickly locked on a girl lying in the grass. Her legs and arms barely moved, but her position was enough of a hint that she'd been crawling away from something. He signaled to Nathan, and then went in closer.

As he did, the several foot-long blood trails in the grass caught his eye, and then the extent of the injuries on who he'd found. The girl's chest and abdomen were bleeding under the tears in her clothing; the arm she was wrapping her wounds with was lined with gashes, puncture wounds dotting her left shoulder and face. Her expression was hopeful, though hiding a lot of pain.

Nathan's phone was in his hands two seconds after he turned the corner and saw the scene. "Keep her company."

"Yeah." Alex replied, though in his head he didn't think that was enough. He lowered himself into a crouch, the trembling in his legs making staying balanced tricky. All the while, his attention was on the girl's wounds, and how much they were bleeding. The lacerations on her arm were the most obvious, though the oozing there was minimal. How bad did her chest get hurt? Unable to tell beyond the existing red stains, Alex checked her shoulder.

Despite minor bleeding there as well, the pattern of damage -- a puncture and multiple tears on a curve -- got his attention. How the hell'd she get bitten there? Alex glanced around in both directions. Had Nathan's honking scared the animal off? And if so, where had it gone?

A sudden increase in breathing pace from the girl tore his attention away. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice shaking a touch.

"Noth..." The girl was cut off by pain, and her expression showed it.

Alex reached halfway out to her before stopping and pulling his arm back. "Don't strain yourself...should have an ambulance here soon."

"No, I'll heal. I'll be fine."

Alex didn't acknowledge that statement verbally; a phobia was his assumption why she'd said that. With Nathan listing off details of her condition to the dispatcher on the phone, an ambulance wouldn't be long in coming.

The girl's breathing quickened again, this time punctuated with a bloody cough. Alex recoiled but didn't stand up. Fuck. Not good. "Anything yet?" He blurted out.

"Almost, man." Nathan replied. Alex heard him mention the cough in turn.

"Help'll be here soon." The girl's breathing didn't slow over the next few seconds. "If you can though, can you tell me your name?"

She struggled with a few breaths before giving her first name. "Angela..."

"If it hurts, don't force it." Alex said after a bit of silence. "You'll be fine. If anything happens, we're here." Angela soon turned her attention towards a dark area to Alex's right. He followed suit, though saw nothing of note. "I can handle that dog if it comes back."

Angela's reply came several seconds later. "He won't...he'll stay away."

He?"Was it a dog you knew?" Alex got no response; Angela kept looking in the same direction. When the sound of crumpling grass got his attention, he noticed her clenching her free hand and then closing her eyes, a pair of tears running from them in turn.

Nathan broke the silence that followed. "They're on their way, man."

"Good to know." Alex said. The start-up of sirens in the distance helped ease his chest tension.

Nathan returned to talking on his phone with a few acknowledgments to the dispatcher. "They're saying we need to keep her from bleeding and keep her warm." Alex nodded, and began removing his jacket.

"The bleeding's not bad..." Angela cut herself off this time.

"You don't sound good, though." Alex said before he draped his jacket near her. Wait a second. That chest injury. "Can you pull your left arm away for a second?"

"...don't want to."

"Just for a moment. I'll be quick." Angela gripped her free hand again but didn't respond. Alex didn't want to force her, but his instincts were telling him that was the injury he had to focus on. When he thought of the bloody cough, and then looked over her surface wounds again, a chill ran through his skin. Was she bleeding internally, or into her lungs?

He had no chance to act on that suspicion before Angela's shallow breathing worsened. "Nathan?" Alex's weakened voice went unanswered. "Nathan!"

"What?"

"She's not breathing well." Alex tossed his jacket aside before his right hand went for Angela's free one, taking it by the wrist. The cold feeling of her flesh, how embedded it felt, stood out immediately. Her pulse didn't, raising Alex's again. Shit, what do I do? Stopping her bleeding became his snap priority. "Lay down, Angela." He got no response, and she stayed in place. "Nathan, I need a hand."

Nathan kept his phone close as he hurried in, the two of them helping Angela down onto her back. Alex then wrestled his tie and shirt off, folding the shirt until it was four layers thick; his reaching for the arm that, for all he knew, was keeping blood from gushing out of Angela's chest pushed his stomach up a way. The newly exposed wounds, four in number, were covered as best Alex could. What pressure he applied didn't feel like enough; Angela's now noticeably rapid heartbeat worsened that feeling.

"She needs her legs elevated." Nathan suddenly said. Alex shot his friend a glance, catching him looking towards his shoulder couched phone; a head tilt towards his backpack followed.

_C'mon, Angela, stay with us._Alex thought as Nathan made for the pack. Though the sirens continued to draw closer as her legs were propped, her shallow, gasping breaths dug the fear of her giving out into Alex's head.

"OK...She's gasping almost...No, uh, Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you CPR trained?"

At that question, Alex's shuddered. How close was Angela to something worse? "For dogs, not people."

Nathan repeated what he'd been told to the dispatcher, then kept quiet, nodding and acknowledging several times at something they were telling him. "They're saying chest compressions only if she stops breathing."

With these wounds? Alex imagined Nathan having to do them before shaking his head at the thought. A second rapid wail sounded and stopped as he did so. The ambulance had crossed a highway intersection several streets away. Not much longer. Hang in there.

When Angela's arms reached up and towards his own seconds later, the unease that Alex had begun holding at bay came rushing back, elevating his pulse; the pressure he had on her stomach lapsed a moment when she grabbed him and the more intense cold of her flesh became apparent.

He ignored Nathan saying his name in favor of glancing at Angela, then to his right. No flashing lights yet. Fuck. Hurry.

Several gasps later, her breathing strength weakened. Alex heard Nathan swear out loud in response. His response lodged in his throat until he forced it out. "Start them, man."

His friend hesitated before inching into position, the trembling of his arms remaining noticeable until several compresses had been done. By then, Alex had glanced away from the scene twice. The third time let him spot the first flashes of red and, after informing Nathan of them, prepare to back off.

It felt much longer than it took for the ambulance to close in, stop, and at least two paramedics to exit. Alex's head snapped to his left before he called to them; within seconds, the two he'd heard and one more were nearby.

The several steps up and backwards he took as the professionals took over allowed the emotions he'd been holding back to rush at his face and limbs. As he massaged his throat, he got in some glances at the scene; Angela was swarmed by the medics, leaving him unable to tell if she was stabilizing or getting worse. When the blue and red flashing lights of a police cruiser appeared, another paramedic came close with a gurney, upon which Alex swore he saw a white sheet. He couldn't help picturing Angela's lifeless face being covered by that sheet in turn, even after telling himself it was needed to keep her warm. More massaging of his throat followed.

When he noticed an officer heading Nathan's way, Alex swallowed, wiped his eyes and tried to breathe easy. A light shake of his head preceded his maneuvering around the scene, his attention in turn drifting from the medics to the officer, and the sergeant insignia on her uniform.

He came close as the medics began to move Angela onto the gurney, and the sergeant, Hill by her nametag, was quick to speak up. "You both okay?"

Nathan responded with a shaky, "Yeah." Alex only nodded.

Hill continued after a few seconds, keeping her tone as calm as possible. "Would you guys follow me, please? I just need a few questions answered, and then you can leave."

Alex nodded to Nathan before the two of them did just that. The questions started as Hill produced a notebook from her chest pocket, the usual gauntlet at first, after a mention of her name, and then others unique to the scene.

"You found her around 9:05. That correct?"

"Yes." Nathan said.

"Was anyone else around?"

"No. Just us. She looked like she was crawling away from something, though."

"Any idea what?"

Alex took over after Nathan shook his head. "From what I saw, probably a canine."

The sergeant looked over Alex's shoulder at the ready to depart ambulance before continuing. "How could you tell?"

"Worked at a vet for a few years. She had a bite pattern on her left shoulder, from a large breed, I think."

"Did anything else stand out?"

As the ambulance departed, sirens wailing, Alex recalled the wounds on Angela's chest. Those had been unusual, in spacing and number.

"I thought I heard her say whatever attacked her would stay away."

Nathan's jumping in drew the sergeant's attention, and redirected Alex's response. "Yeah, she did say that."

Hill stayed quiet for a few seconds, glancing once at the scene. "Are you both sure you were alone when you found her?"

"Very. I didn't see anything." Nathan replied.

Although ready to agree, Alex recalled Angela's behavior from before she'd made the claim. "Me either, but she was looking past me before and after she said that."

"In the direction the animal ran, I'd assume." Hill said.

"Yeah, that what I was thinking."

"Anything else?"

"No, ma'am." Alex said with a shake of his head.

"Okay." With a few more notes, and another glance at the scene, Hill continued. "One last thing. I need to get some contact information from both of you."

"What for?" Nathan asked, glancing at Alex shortly after.

"We're witnesses." Alex said. "If what happened to Angela leads into a legal case, the prosecution may need testimonies from us."

"I haven't seen something like this go as far as the courts, but yes, this is in case it does." Hill flipped to another page in her notebook. "For now, I need your names, your addresses, and a phone number we can reach you at, and then you're welcome to head out." Alex went first, expecting the mention of his last name to draw a comment from the sergeant. When it didn't, he stepped aside and waited for Nathan to give his info, after which the sergeant thanked them. "You two stay safe."

"We'll do our best." Nathan replied as Hill got back in her cruiser and shut off the flashing lights. She was halfway down the road when, without a word between them, Alex and Nathan decided to abandon their old plans and head back home. "Think she'll be okay?" Nathan asked after they reached his car.

"I hope so, man. That bleeding was bad."

"You okay?"

"More or less." Alex said after a short delay. "You?"

"Still kind of shaky."

Alex nodded. "Then, guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah. You too, man."

Alex walked off after a sturdy fist bump, his drive home bringing to mind the thought of what his folks would do if he told them what had happened. His throat tensed a bit as it lingered in his head, but as his motorcycle rolled into the driveway and the ignition was shut off, saying nothing about it won out.

Chapter 3 - First Day On The Job

Tuesday, August 23rd, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

Despite a light being on in the living room, Alex heard nothing at the front door in line with his folks still being awake. Bailey however was keen to rush for the door when anyone was unlocking it, and within the first inches of it being swung open, Alex saw him sitting at attention, his tail sweeping the front rug.

"That's my boy. Stay." Bailey stopped listening and came close as soon as the door was closed, zeroing in on one of Alex's arms and sniffing at it. "Sorry, boy, didn't have any leftovers." Alex said before rubbing Bailey's head and making for the restroom. Once in front of the mirror, what his dog had really been interested in became clear: the dried bloodstains that dotted his arms and palms. Fighting back the image of Angela reaching out and at him, he washed his skin until no evidence of the event remained; Bailey continued to tail him as his blood-stained clothing was mulled over, soaked in stain remover and then dumped in the wash.

The first chance his dog got, he was up against the washing machine, working to get his muzzle closer to the source of the unfamiliar scent. "Hey, Bailey, no." Alex said as he heaved his pet's paws off the washing machine; although Bailey didn't jump back up, his attention didn't divert. "C'mon, boy. Leave it." Alex said as he stepped away, stopping only to slap his leg a few times.

When Bailey at last followed his lead, a lack of tail-wagging and an unblinking stare came with him. Nothing gets by you, does it boy? Alex scratched his dog's ears and head until he was ready to retire to his room.

Wednesday, August 24th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

6:43 a.m.

The next morning, Alex slipped into the bathroom for a shower while at least one of his parents was busy in the kitchen. His thoughts about what to say if the bloodstains were brought up had survived the night, though the tone of his mother's first sentences didn't hint that she'd noticed them. "Did the interview go well?" she asked as Alex guzzled a glass of milk.

"Mmm...yeah. First shift should be next week."

"Did you get any uniforms or clothes that need washing?"

"Yeah. Just a sec."

As Alex approached the hallway, the door to his parent's bedroom swung open to reveal his father, dressed in the dark blue police uniform. "Morning, son," he said as his smartphone was slid into his shirt pocket.

"Hey, dad." Alex replied as he slipped by him and into his room; the hint of surprise in his father's tone hadn't escaped his notice.

After recovering the tees from his backpack, he turned around to see his father standing in the doorway. "You have a minute?" he asked, to which Alex gave a 'Yeah.' A moment passed before his father continued. "One of my sergeants told me about the call-in you were involved in last night." Despite the concern in his father's tone, Alex hesitated too long on a response. "You didn't do anything wrong, son."

A slight shake of his head was the first half of Alex's response as the emotions from that night leaked back into his head and face. "I know..." When his mother chimed in with a "What call-in?" response, how close she sounded urged him to not show any emotion.

"Alex and one of his friends called dispatch last night, reported someone who'd been mauled. One of the sergeants I work with left me a message about it."

"Well..." Alex glanced to his left during the pause in his mother's sentence; she didn't continue until she could see him. "Do you want to talk to us about it?"

Alex shook his head again, letting out a sigh instead of talking.

"You sure?"

"...Yeah."

"Later, maybe?"

His father chimed in before Alex answered. "He'll be okay, hun."

"But..."

"I know, but he'll be okay."

Alex waited to be left alone before making any moves to wipe his eyes, or move from the spot he'd been standing in. A few minutes of reading a skateboarding magazine, and rubbing Bailey's head, helped sweep the rest of his sadness away.

* * *

It was nearing seven-thirty when his father came to his door again; Alex heard his footsteps and turned from his desktop screen to find him leaning against the doorframe. "Hey, Dad."

"You have a minute, son?"

"Yeah." Alex replied, staying in his chair as his father made his way to his bed and sat on the head of it.

"About yesterday..." His father paused, as if to watch for a sign of discomfort. Alex didn't allow any beyond a glance away. "Before Sergeant Hill arrived, did you get any sort of feeling that you were in danger, or being watched?"

Alex took a second to consider it before shaking his head. "No, but we found her right after Nathan had tried to scare off whatever was there, so..."

"How so?"

"He drove his car towards where we thought something was happening, and kept honking his horn and revving his engine when we came close."

"Makes sense."

"We didn't see anything, though."

"Hill told me the same. Probably for the best, though."

"Yeah." Alex said before the thought of a botched rescue, and the animal returning, went through his head.

"Are you okay otherwise?" his father asked after a bit of silence.

Alex gave a quick nod. "Wish I knew how Angela's doing right now."

"I figured. Chances are she's recovering in intensive care at wherever she was taken."

"Hope so."

"If Hill or one of my other officers update me, I'll let you know. For now, though, try not to let it weigh on you too much. You both did what you could while you were there, and that's most important."

Alex nodded. "I know."

After another bit of silence, and a check of the clock on his phone, his father stood up from the bed. "I have to get going. Congratulations on your new job."

"Thanks, Dad." Alex said as he got up and hugged him. Not long after his father left the room, Bailey came and sat next to him, doing little beyond stare. "I know, boy. Let's go walk." Bailey's tail immediately started wagging.

As the second lap of his block started, Alex's phone rang. Seeing Blue Moon on the caller ID, he answered, expecting to hear about a shift he could cover, despite what Marcus had said the day before.

"Our two to seven guy just called me," Trevor said after a bit of small talk. "Said he got food poisoning last night. If you want his shift, it's yours."

"Sure. I'll be there."

"Great. See you then."

* * *

Alex arrived to a more crowded shop than he thought for a weekday afternoon. Of the customers there, most looked in their early or mid-20's, many of them reading or fingering through shelved trades. A sole child of four or so running around near the RPG boxes then pulled his attention. Oh, great, he thought as the kid kept jogging about. One of the less than encouraging stories he'd heard from Catherine of children being let loose in the bookstore where she worked came to mind. Hope no one's expecting us to watch him.

At the front counter, an employee he'd never seen before set down the comic he was reading, exposing the name badge hidden behind it; Daniel was his name. "Hey. Are you Alex?"

"Yeah, that's me." Daniel then offered his hand, and his name; Alex shook it and gave his name in turn. "Nice to meet you... Kinda busy in here today, isn't it?"

"Not really. This is the day new comics go out for sale."

"Oh, right. Marcus did tell me that before."

"Did he also tell you about the secret room we have?"

Alex smiled as he heard that, even though he knew it was a set-up for a joke. "No, he didn't."

"You'll find out about it soon enough, I'm sure."

"Probably by leaning against a switch on the wall."

Daniel's face didn't budge. "Yeah, we've lost a few employees to the lasers that way. Anyway, Trevor's in his office, but I can show you some of the basic stuff if you need."

Alex agreed to the suggestion, and Daniel was quick to start showing him where everything was that he would need for the day. The employee time-clock at the rear of the store, the storage room for the boxes of new inventory, the gaming room for the daily RPG sessions, and the restroom, which Daniel was quick to remind him was for employees only. "It being that close to the storage room, we can't risk people sneaking in and making off with our inventory."

"Makes sense, but why would anyone try and steal from storage if the front counter is, like, twenty feet away?" Alex asked, even though he already knew the general reason for the first part.

"All sorts of reasons." Daniel replied as they headed for Trevor's office. After two knocks, Trevor opened the door to let Alex inside.

His attention was again drawn to the rare comics on the walls until his boss addressed him. "You ready to start your shift?"

"Yeah, I am. Do you want me working the floor or the register first?"

"For today, I just want you walking the floor and getting a feel of the store's layout. You read over the papers I gave you, right?"

"Yeah, I did. Keep the walls tidy, replace any comics or books that don't belong somewhere, and help any customers who need it." Alex replied, counting with his fingers each duty he listed.

Trevor was pleased. "You got it...except for one thing. You're also responsible for getting backstock if we need it. Once you've gotten a few days with us, we'll train you on the register."

With a nod at the addition, Alex was led to the time clock and punched in. With his name badge hanging on a lanyard, he started his shift looking around near the front entrance.

Half an hour later, the store was still full of customers; a crowd of around six people in various locations. Only one person by that point had asked him for any assistance, leaving him little else to do. While he made another check of the RPG and board game sections, his hand went for his phone before he pulled it away. Walking back to Daniel, he got his attention. "I know it's my first day, but does Trevor mind if we use our phones on the clock?"

"Sometimes." Daniel replied as he looked around the store. "Right now's not a good time because it looks bad. When we've got, maybe, two people in the store, then it's fine."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Alex found the temptation to pull his phone out anyway, if only to quickly text one of his friends, hard to resist. Once his break came at the halfway point of his shift, he wasted no time texting Marcus.

Alex S.:Hey, man. Trevor called me in for a shift already.

Marcus' response came a few seconds later.

Marcus A.: That was quick. How are you liking the place so far?

Alex S.: It's nice, but there's not much to do.

Marcus A.: Unlike your old job?

Alex S.: Yeah.

Marcus A.: That'll happen a lot.

_ My advice: read some of the new inventory and get familiar with what the store sells._

Alex S.: Will do. Thanks.

As his break came to an end around five, his phone vibrated with an incoming call tone. Seeing Nathan's name in the caller ID, he hesitated on putting the phone away for a few seconds. _Ehh...first day. Better not._Figuring his friend would text him if he had something on his mind, Alex pocketed his phone and got back to work; no texts came over the next quarter hour, nor as the rest of his shift went by.

* * *

Back home, Bailey was quick to rush him as he opened the front door, his nose hovering around his clothing before attempting to leap up on him. "Hey, boy. Missed me, didn't you?" Alex said as he rubbed his dog's head and ears.

Once Bailey relaxed, Alex coaxed him inside and made for his room; his folks were already eating but didn't say much until he returned for a plate for himself.

His father was the first to ask how his shift went, to which Alex responded with muted enthusiasm. "You miss your old job?"

"Some, yeah." Alex replied. When he was pressed about why, he chocked it up to an uneasy gut feeling; the differing interpretations put forward by his parents took over the table talk until he was ready for a second helping.

"Are you still upset about yesterday?"

"No." Alex said after a light sigh. To his relief, his mother didn't push the topic. As dinner wound down however, the event bore its way back into his current thoughts.

Angela's condition was on his mind the most; his father's silence on the subject throughout dinner felt less worrying the longer he thought on it, but the nagging feeling of her not making it slowed his eating pace. What had happened to the calf came and went a few times, the similarities between each event getting his gears turning as he left the kitchen.

As quickly as he began thinking it could've been the same animal, doubt rushed in to sweep at the idea. The same happened as the reasons he believed made the most sense for the attack -- rabies and bad luck -- ran through his thoughts.

Wonder if Nathan was calling about any of that... Alex felt for his phone, but remembering the lack of follow-up correspondence, left it in his pocket.

Friday, August 26th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

It wasn't until Friday afternoon, during an extended ride around the neighborhood, that Nathan called again and brought the subject up with him. "Dad hasn't said a thing about it since Wednesday." Alex said after taking another sip of water.

"Hopefully that's a good thing."

"I'm pretty sure it is." Hearing his friend give a 'Hmm' in response, Alex broke the silence the followed with a suggestion to hang out at the comic shop.

They arrived to find Marcus on shift reading another trade, and the rest of the afternoon, and some of the early evening, blew past as their time was split between chatting with him and browsing the shelves. What happened with Angela stayed off topic for several hours, and until there were few customers around. As he and Nathan went back and forth detailing the event, what remained of Alex's bottled emotions never surfaced to his face.

When he repeated what Angela had said to him after assuring her they'd keep her safe, Marcus chimed in with a question, "What was she describing anyway?"

"She didn't say, but it had to be a canine." Alex replied. "Probably one she knew, too; she had a full bite mark on her shoulder."

"Damn." Marcus' low tone vanished as soon as he spoke again. "Wonder if she told the police."

"That's what I'm hoping." Nathan said. "Last we saw, she was bleeding pretty bad and going into shock."

Alex waited for a pause following Marcus' brief response to speak up. "I'll ask Dad about it on Monday, if he doesn't update me before then."

"Fingers crossed for good news, then." Marcus said, to which Nathan and Alex both replied with a variant of 'Yeah', and a non-verbal dropping of the subject.

Chapter 4 - The Beast of Sugar Land

Friday, August 26th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

8:47 p.m.

As eight-o-clock approached, the urge to get back to skating Alex had felt building over the past half hour won out over the comic binge he'd been lost in for the same length of time; Trevor slowed him with a bit of small talk as he made for the door, their short chat wrapping up with Alex saying he'd see him next week.

Outside, several cars were maneuvering around the better spots of the parking lot. Alex gave them a minute to find spots and park or move on, but the lost density was taken up by other cars nearly as quickly. The skatepark he and Nathan had planned to visit days ago soon came to mind and he made his way there, finding only one other skater inside. A low turnout for what he knew to be a normally busy night and hour.

After a glance out to where Angela had been found, Alex's board was back under his feet as soon as he passed the park's turnstile, his first few minutes spent riding around versus attempting any tricks. The other skater departed a while later, leaving the crickets in the grass around the park all that competed with the noise Alex's board and wheels made.

Several more minutes passed before the thought of getting some filming in crossed his mind; while setting up his phone to capture the shot angle he wanted, Alex picked a few tricks to try off the incline he'd decided on. The foot and a half worth of height at the ramp's middle was enough to allow the extension of a few.

Once atop the quarterpipe opposite the incline, Alex set his board in place on the lip before shifting his weight over the edge and dropping in, holding a crouch until the incline's edge was close. The Ollie off the ramp left his lead foot open to sweep the side of his board and force a center axis spin. The second time he saw the griptape, he thrust his legs out, catching the board a foot from the ground.

The sound of wood cracking and snapping overpowered the clack of the board's wheels and bearings as he landed; the downwards and forwards momentum that his board didn't absorb was too great, and a landing on his arms and side was the result.

As he shook off the fall and resultant quivering, Alex found his board had broken not only in the center but also at the tail near the truck bolts, with the griptape all that held the three segments together as he picked it up and swept splinters under the ramp. After strapping it to his backpack, Alex retrieved his phone and waited for the recording to process. He'd been in frame throughout the bad landing, making where the Double Kickflip went wrong easily viewable.

Until he was out of the park, his phone didn't leave his hand. As it slipped into his pocket, he noticed something moving near the benches in the distance. A large, furry body with a canine-shaped head and ears. His pulse crept up as it stood and his pace quickened, one hand going for his keys.

With his second glance towards the animal, how large it was on all fours kept his attention stuck to it. The sound of steady growling that then reached his ears made him turn to keep it in sight. As it closed in, everything else wrong about the animal began to stand out. Its posture was off, as though its legs were too long. Its body looked too long. Its front paws were huge, and they motioned more like hands.

Torn between wondering what the hell he was looking at and the urge to run, the animal took two more steps before the lights of the park behind him lit it up. Its pelt was pitch black, tan in rare spots. And it front paws were more like clawed hands.

The growling snapped to a snarl and Alex recoiled backwards, his left shoulder hitting the park's fence and rocketing his pulse. As though the creature saw his attempt to retreat as a challenge, it charged.

Alex's first instinct of a side-step didn't work. The creature shifted its direction and lunged at him, the immense weight of its body knocking him backward into the grass.

An open jaw hovered over his head for but a second before trying to bite at him. Alex got an arm under the beast's throat to hold it away, the quaking of his arms making grabbing at its jaw difficult.

The grip he did get didn't last a second. The beast grabbed his arm with one of its clawed hands and yanked it away, holding it down in turn. Its other clawed hand went over his face and mouth, almost blocking him from breathing.

As he grappled with the arm over his face, trying to get it off, he felt his right arm get taken in the beast's grip.

Its hot breath blew over the flesh of his forearm barely a second before its fangs punctured his skin.

The searing pain that ran like wildfire down his arm and into his chest drew a scream that was muffled by the fur and pads of the beast's paw. Jerking his head around to try and free himself, Alex grabbed the paw over his face again and wrenched open his own mouth. His teeth went into the rough pads, the pain from the bite and the bitter taste of the beast's skin and fur both giving him incentive to bite harder.

He heard it squeal in pain and his head was released. Alex slammed his left fist into the muzzle that had just let his arm go, feeling it impact and push away the beast's head. With his punctured forearm withdrawn, his whole body trembling in shock and fear, he struggled to get back to his feet and keep his eyes on his attacker.

The beast recovered in seconds, but instead of charging him again, stood up on its hind legs, the snarl still going. Alex's eyes widened at what he saw. It stood taller than him in that stance, even with a hunch and canine-like legs. His blood was coloring its fangs and muzzle, and it was bracing for another strike.

The terror Alex felt from the first attack intensified as the werewolf swung to try and grab him. He didn't think about which direction he went. He just went, ducking to avoid the massive paw as he did.

He barely got two steps before the werewolf got ahold of him, its paw snagging the neck of his T-shirt. The claws tore into the fabric as his collar jerked him to a stop. Feeling himself being pulled back, before he could scream again, the werewolf had wrapped its other paw around his neck. The claws pushed against his throat, above his jugular.

Breathing rapidly with tears running from his eyes, Alex tried not to break down as his head was jerked to the side. When the werewolf sunk its massive canines into his shoulder, he could feel them pass through his muscles but stop at his clavicle, his shoulder and head burning from the pain.

Suppressing his screams to fight the pain, Alex wanted more than anything now to have some kind of lucky break. To get away from this thing. With his hands jerking in reaction to the pain, he reached behind himself and grabbed two tufts of fur. From what felt like around the werewolf's hips. He couldn't tell how strong his grip was, but he twisted his hands nonetheless. He could feel the werewolf's skin moving as he pulled, making it produce a growl. The pain in his shoulder intensified. He was doing something right.

Lifting his foot, he swung it backwards and it hit nothing. The second time, he felt it hit something furry. Pushing down as hard as he could, he felt his shoe grab more fur. And then smash what felt like the werewolf's hind paw. It released him again and his still clenched hands yanked at two handfuls of fur. Alex barely saw it rubbing the affected areas before he started to run.

With every muscle in his body shaking like mad, he made for his bike, only to stumble upon reaching it. Swearing out loud several times, he heard the clicking of claws behind him and the werewolf was on top of him, pinning him down against the seat of his bike, one paw on his head and the other on his back, both with their claws digging into his skin.

Gasping in pain, Alex expected this to be the end. He'd fought back and lost. He'd only pissed it off instead of managing to get away. Hearing the beast breathing next to his ear, how Angela must have felt against this thing became clear and he let his emotions rule his words. Regardless of whether it could hear him or not.

"No one will cry for you if you end up dead." Feeling the claws in his back tightening, his words halted for a moment. "Yeah? Fuck you too." Hearing a snarl by his ear, and feeling the hot breath of the werewolf against his neck, Alex shut his eyes and stopped talking.

The seconds passed and nothing seemed to change. Quick breaths ran over his shoulder wounds, and then the claws that were sunk in his back and head were pulled out. He again heard claws clicking on concrete, this time moving backwards.

Turning himself around with his motorcycle as a temporary crutch, he saw the werewolf backing up. It did so until it was about five feet away, and then stopped. It produced light growls and glared at him but didn't move, as if it was taunting him. Sniffling once, Alex didn't try and anger it further, even though he wanted to. If it was just going to sit there, he had a chance to run for it.

Swinging a leg over the seat of his bike, he reached for his keys with his bloodstained, quivering fingers. As the engine started up, he nearly forgot to pull up the kickstand before punching the throttle; he glanced back twice as he sped down the park's access road, both times seeing the werewolf not trying to follow him.

The evening wind whipped his uncovered face and his muscles continued to twitch as he flew down the road, trying to maintain his composure and keep himself upright. His nerves were slowly cooling but every little jostle made him fearful of overcorrecting and crashing.

As the first street into his neighborhood came up, Alex turned wide into it and pulled over near Nathan's place, confident that he'd gotten away. He held the shoulder of his shredded arm until his breathing lost its shakiness, then wrestled his phone from his pocket. Though at first spurred to call his dad, as he found his number in the address book, he couldn't bring himself to start the call.

What was he supposed to say about his attacker? He knew what the thing was. He'd seen it clear as anything, but even on his best day, his father would never believe the use of 'werewolf' for an animal attack report. The idea of lying to make it something more believable came to mind, but if he made up a story and others died as a result...

With his heart sinking at the feeling of being wedged between two bad outcomes, Alex pocketed his phone and made for his house. For now, this was his problem to fix. If someone found out, then he'd consider what to do.

As he pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine, he heard his phone beep with a new text but ignored it and went straight for the front door. Inside, Bailey was quick to run up to him and greet him, before the scent of blood took all of his attention, a weak whine sounding as he continued to sniff.

"Quiet, Bailey." Hoping he wasn't dripping blood on the rugs and carpet, Alex made haste to the bathroom, locking his dog out behind him. And even before he began to remove his torn and blood-stained T-shirt, the mirror made it clear how much damage the werewolf had caused.

On his left shoulder were two large piercings from the werewolf's fangs, with shallower punctures in the skin near his clavicle bone. His right forearm was lined with torn flesh and punctures in the shape of a massive canine jawline. Running down the length of both of his arms were several drying trails of blood. The puncture wounds from the claws in his back didn't look as bad, though his spine and ribs stung when he moved them too much.

With the store of medical supplies under the counter in his hands, Alex ripped a square of gauze free of the packaging, dabbing the area around his forearm as lightly as he could. His arm still stung like mad at the slightest touch, but as he cleaned the spot, something caught his attention. Few, if any, of the wounds were still bleeding.

His heart rate, which had begun to slow down, rose again; he knew deep animal bites didn't clot that quickly. With a new gauze square in hand, he pressed it down over the deepest of the punctures on his shoulder, despite the searing pain. When it was pulled away, the once clean square was stained with blood, but none that came from the exposed muscle. His pulse rose again, enough that he could feel it in his neck, yet still no blood leaked from his wounds.

What followed was a slow constricting of his throat, the rise of a sick to the stomach feeling in his chest and lungs, and a closing of his eyes, tears dripping long before he could no longer see, as the image of the werewolf, its snarling face and massive frame, dominated his mind between flashes of the attack, and the revelation of his already clotted, yet gaping, wounds.

It took hardly a minute for the first of his fear-laced questions to surface: If he was already healing this fast, what else was going to happen to him? Then more came. Would he start acting like an animal in public? Drive his friends and family away? If they found out what he was, what was to stop them from turning him away? Every possibility, and every thought, made him sick to think about, though the silver chain necklace he had on confirmed, at least, one thing: He wasn't suddenly allergic to the presence of the metal.

Chapter 5 - Uncertainty

Friday, August 26th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

The torrent of emotions and physical tension brought on by the discovery and questioning was slow to lax, with Alex fighting the urge to sob every second it all lingered. Even by the time he'd relaxed enough to resume cleaning up, the quivering of his arms made cleaning off the blood and dressing the wounds he could reach difficult.

For what felt like hours, he stayed locked in the bathroom, ignoring Bailey's sniffing of the gap under the door and only opening it after the lights were off and he was certain his mother was still asleep. Though his pet went straight for him at first, his attention quickly diverted to the overflowing pile of bloody medical supplies nearby. Instead of telling Bailey off, Alex snuck into the kitchen and dumped the mass, shoving it as far down the kitchen trashbin as it would go. His shredded, blood-stained T-shirt went in next, with a thick layer of already discarded trash covering the last of the evidence.

Once he was back in his room with a fresh T-shirt on, Alex sat against his bedside drawers in complete darkness, trying in what felt like vain to relax even a bit. Bailey was right behind him and went to lick his face when he came close, something that Alex allowed only because he didn't feel like pushing him away; some love from his pet was a welcome contrast to the last few hours, and how drained and heavy his mind and body had become.

It was when Bailey started sniffing near the dressings and sparked a shot of pain though his arm that Alex climbed into bed. His pet followed suit, staying focused on the injuries and strange scents above everything else for a considerable stretch of time. Ow. Stop it, Bailey. Alex nudged him back but he closed the distance right after, and almost got a lick to connect. No, boy.

It took Alex forcing Bailey to lay down to make him stop. As he did the same, the spread of damage to his torso and arms made resting comfortably, or in a way that would keep Bailey from being nosy and exposing the dressings, difficult. When he at last settled into a marginally comfortable position, Alex eased himself to sleep between strokes of Bailey's fur.

Saturday, August 27th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waning Crescent

7:22 a.m.

When he awoke the next morning, and began to sit up, the sight of his helmet and backpack, the shattered deck still attached to it, lying near his closet got his pulse up. The first thought he had was his father had found it, followed immediately by worry about him having seen the dressings, or something else that tied to his injuries, and what sort of questions he was in for.

With the coffee maker grinding in the kitchen, and footsteps coming from the same location, Alex slid out of bed and crept back to the bathroom. His injuries resumed stinging upon his limbs moving again, while the audible crinkling of the dressings sounded louder than he knew they should've. After faking a shower with just his head being washed, his denim jacket hid the lumps the dressings created underneath his t-shirt.

His eventual walk towards the kitchen added pressure to his chest, more so when he found both of his parents up, and giving him suspicious looks from minute one. And as he'd expected, the questions started coming as soon as he sat down, his father going first. "Why did you leave your things at the park last night?"

Alex's struggle to answer let his mother take over. "Were you doing something there last night?"

"Just skating...until my board broke."

His father resumed the questions. "Why did you leave your stuff there, though?"

Taking a breath and making a fist under the table, Alex's pulse picked up. The seconds kept rushing by with him saying nothing; he knew the longer he stalled, the worse it looked, but he didn't want to tell them the truth. Any of it.

"Alex...What happened last night?" When his father asked that question, the implications of it shot panic into Alex's head and his gaze broke from his parents. As he tried to think of something, anything, to say, he gripped his arms to stop them reaching for his injuries.

What felt like half a minute went by. Is that all he knows? That question sat on Alex's thoughts for a second, and then something clicked. He didn't have to tell the whole truth.

"Someone tried to jump me." Alex blurted out shortly after that point crossed his mind.

The look on his mother's face snapped to panic stricken at those words. "What? Who?"

"I don't know. Someone trying to get my wallet, or something."

The exasperated, possibly disappointed, look that came onto his father's face was reflected in his tone. "And you didn't think to call me and report it?"

"I should have, I know." Alex held off on saying any more, and things went quiet for a time again.

"Do you remember what this person looked like at least?"

"No." Alex said with a shake of his head. The silence that followed pushed him to add more. "I ran back to the park entrance and then looked back and they were gone."

"Any idea why?"

Alex shook his head again. "Guess they didn't want me seeing them."

"And then what happened?"

"I waited a minute, then got out of there."

"Then, I still don't understand why you left your stuff there, much less never called me."

It took little time for Alex to answer, though the fear that his fib would fall apart at any minute continued building under his skin. "My phone battery was dead, and I ran for it first chance I thought I had. In case they were nearby."

His father's silence after his answer, a look on his face in line with suspicion and inquiry, only made the feeling worse. "Look, son." He began after what felt a full, tense, minute. "Don't keep things like that to yourself."

"I know, I know." Alex replied, a mix of relief and sadness coming across in his words.

After another stretch of silence, his mother spoke up. "Was that park where you found that girl?"

Alex pulled his gaze up in response. "Yeah, it was." As what he thought his mother was implying with that question crossed his mind, his father spoke up first.

"It was an animal that did that, hun. Not a person."

"Still, that's twice in five days he's been involved in something dangerous."

"Yeah..." Alex's father looked in his direction before lapsing into thought for a few seconds. "If he wasn't underage, I'd say a concealed handgun license would be worth his time to get."

As the thought of what he could've done with such a weapon the night before crossed his mind, Alex faked a lean on his hand to feel the dressings on his left shoulder. The absence of the more severe stinging he'd felt the night before, and as he'd woken up, was obvious, even with an increase of pressure on his skin. A fact that caused a chill to run down his spine.

Even after breakfast was over and his folks had moved on to other things -- his father typing away at something in the study and his mother getting ready to meet a friend -- the tension that chill had brought on hadn't fully faded. When he saw his chance, Alex made for the restroom, locking the door behind him and then stripping his jacket and tee off.

What he saw with the continued removal of the patches of dressing made his previously relaxed pulse give way to the same fearful pace of the night before, a noticeably building tremble coming through in his limbs.

The most severe tearing and puncture wounds were at least a quarter smaller versus what they had been, with the smaller wounds already scarred over or nearing such a state. A pace of healing in line with months of time versus barely twelve hours. And then something else about his wounds caught his attention: the absence of redness, bruising, and scabbing, all things that he knew followed animal bites and similar skin-breaking injuries.

His old fears seeped back into memory, now reinforced by that observation; the board-stiff, quivering pose his body locked into as a result held for nearly a minute, weakening only as the first 'I've hidden this so far' reassurances came to mind. The most severe of his remaining shoulder wounds were then patched over, with a length of gauze tape and an elastic bandage going around his arm. Once his tee and jacket were back on, his handiwork was as good as invisible.

Bailey however wasn't fooled. After Alex finished mulling over how to dump and hide the blood-stained dressings, he left the bathroom, the evidence stuffed in his pockets, to find his pet waiting for him, the first whiff of unfamiliar scents getting him to stick close. Alex paid it no mind until after he'd gotten rid of the used dressings and retreated to his room, at which point his pet closed in and continued to sniff around where his wounds were.

"Hey. Bailey, stop." Alex said as he pushed his dog's massive head away; even after getting him to sit, it was clear Bailey didn't want to give up on the idea. "I'm okay, boy. Thanks, though."

Monday, August 29th, 2011

Moon Phase - New

After the rest of Saturday went by, with Alex doing his best to focus on the time with his friends versus the discovery from that morning, he allowed Sunday to pass with little activity besides playing with Bailey and breaking in the board he'd bought the day before.

By Monday morning, only the deepest of his wounds was still healing, though the scarring the bites had left would be a constant reminder of what caused them. Throughout the quick breakfast that followed, Bailey sat quietly by his side; Alex spared a hand to stroke his head in return.

* * *

When he arrived at campus, the parking lot was partially-filled and a mass of students were heading for their classes. Helmet and backpack in hand, Alex came in behind a group of them heading towards the main entrance. He followed them for barely two seconds before a twinge of nervousness ran through him, slowing his pace. A glance both to his left and right gave him no clue what caused it, but as he came closer to the main entrance, the twinge intensified.

It was when a pack of five students left through the door he was heading for that Alex near backpedaled and made for the path on his left. The tightening of his flesh and jumpstart to his pulse didn't relax until he was fully around the corner, where far fewer students were coming and going. As he slipped inside with his head turned down, Alex brought a soda from one of the vending machines and then made his way upstairs.

The nervousness continued to build as he stood outside the room and sized up where to sit, his skin tightening and his legs filling with lead as soon as he made his choice and acted on it. As though he knew he was at risk of being jumped from behind and loudly declared a monster at the slightest hint.

Alex balled a fist over his leg and tried to relax, barely glancing around while he held his quivering arms. No one knew what had happened to him. He had no reason to worry, but the feelings didn't subside, even with the thought of Bailey by his side. Twice, he thought to leave the room and retreat to the closest bathroom to pull himself together, but that would mean walking back into a classroom where, once the door opened or he walked in, every eye would be on him. A thought that kept him frozen to his chair, moving only when he needed to.

As soon as class was over, Alex wasted no time leaving the room, his anxiety diminishing as he watched the other students leave as well. He scanned their faces for signs of increased attention, seeing nothing to confirm his fears. With an exasperated exhale, he headed downstairs to the commons area.

His bad gut feeling came back as he found a spot to sit. Unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of the comics he'd bought the week before, every few panels, he looked up and around. None of the students from his previous class were nearby, but he noticed others looking at him. Albeit briefly.

After a few minutes, he gave up on sitting where he felt so exposed. He gathered his stuff and headed back upstairs, sitting in front of the room of his next class. With no one around besides the rare, lone person walking by, his anxiety eased at last.

What the hell's wrong with me?

He wracked his brain for an explanation, the werewolf's bite being the only thing that made the most sense. He'd never felt this uneasy about being on school grounds, or around other people, before he was bitten, and the area around the skate park had been empty that night.

After returning to reading his comics, one was finished just in time for the professor to arrive. While sitting in class with only her around, Alex still felt normal, but as the class filled up, the cycle of building tension repeated.

"Hey, man." Hearing Nathan's voice, Alex looked up just in time to intercept his hand with a shake. "We're sharing a class again this semester, it seems."

"Nice," Alex replied. His friend took the seat next to him, getting his laptop out and going back to typing something on it. With him nearby, the uncertainty Alex had been feeling up to then weakened, and remained so throughout the hour-long class period.

His focus however was on what he had feared the night he was bitten. That more than just his body had been affected, that he would start to act like an animal.

After class, out in the parking lot, he sat on his motorcycle for several minutes, doing nothing but thinking. Had any of his other mannerisms changed? If they had, when would he find out? In class again? At work? Shaking his head, Alex tried to push those thoughts aside. He knew Trevor and Daniel a bit already, and his shift was only four hours long. After that, he was free to go home.

He arrived to find just three customers browsing around, his boss greeting him from the register. "Should I keep working the shelves, or...?" Alex asked as he shook his hand.

"You'll be working the floor for the most part today, but I'll let Daniel know to show you how to work the register."

"Sounds good." Alex didn't feel the unease returning as he began his shift, much to his relief.

* * *

After some time straightening the shelves, Daniel called him over to the register counter. A single customer about his age was waiting there with a few single issues; the words 'Tampa Skateshop' on the customer's tee dominated Alex's attention as he came behind the counter.

"New guy?" the customer asked, his tone making it clear that Daniel was to answer.

"Yeah." Daniel replied. "Started last week."

When the customer nodded, but didn't speak, Alex jumped in. "I've used a register before. I won't screw up."

"One like this one?"

"Sort of."

"That's a start."

As Daniel stepped him through some basics, Alex waited for a chance to ask the customer about the skateshop. Before he could, the question of where he'd worked before came up.

His answer got both the customer and Daniel to express surprise. "Why'd you leave a vet job for a comic store?" the customer asked.

"I got tired of treating so many injured pets, and hearing owners getting upset at bad news," Alex replied matter-of-factually.

"Yeah...that would do it."

"It was generally nice, don't get me wrong, but...yeah, some time away from that was what I wanted. And if this job doesn't work out and nothing else comes around, I can get my old position back pretty easy."

"I highly doubt you'll get fired from a job like this," Daniel said. "Unless you try to, or you find that switch I mentioned."

Seeing Daniel and the customer smirk, Alex quipped back. "I'll have a mirror handy for that, man. Trust me." He finished the transaction shortly after he finished talking, handing the customer his receipt with a 'Thanks. See you later.'

It was when the doors began to close behind the customer that he remembered the question he wanted to ask, and kicked himself for not doing it. Noting the name for later, he burned through the rest of his shift and was quick to return home.

Finding neither of his parent's cars in the driveway, the sound of Bailey running his direction was the first thing he heard after the door opened. "Hey, boy. You miss me today?" Alex asked as he crouched down to pet him. His dog attempted a lick of his face in response; as he tried to keep from laughing at Bailey's tongue repeatedly missing, Alex didn't immediately notice his pet's attention moving to his arm.

Seeing no reason to hold him back, Alex stayed kneeled as his pet's nostril breaths swept over his skin. And then a whine sounded.

"Bailey, what is it?" Alex got no vocal response. Instead, his dog looked him in the eyes, then turned back toward his scarred arm, nudging it with his muzzle before licking his skin. Something he'd done for years in response to hints of injury.

"A werewolf did that to me, boy." After so many hours of unease and tension, Alex felt no shame at letting that sentence get away from him, or at allowing a bit of emotion into his face afterward.

Chapter 6 - New Scents

Monday, August 29th, 2011

Moon Phase - New

Later that night, as dinner came to an end, Alex filled a bottle with fresh water for a ride around the block.

His father stopped him as he came near the dining table. "Alex, before you leave...can I talk to you in private for a minute?"

At that, Alex's thoughts snapped to the blood-stained dressings he'd been throwing out, his pulse jumping in turn. "Yeah. Why?"

"It's about that girl you and your friend found."

The slight bit of relief Alex felt was quickly replaced with concern, and then defeat. His father's tone wasn't the kind that meant good news. "She didn't make it, did she?" As his mother looked in his direction, his father got up and nudged him towards the hallway leading to his room. The door was soon closed behind them.

"No. She died while the ambulance was en route."

Alex closed his eyes and blew a lengthy exhale at hearing that; although glad to finally know what happened, sadness and anger welled in his chest.

His father continued. "That's not the whole story though, and that's why I wanted this said in private."

_Whole story?_After Alex's first thoughts of what that meant came to mind, that enough evidence had been found to lean towards 'werewolf' or that Angela had tried to warn the medics of something before dying, he almost couldn't signal his father to say what he needed to.

What he was told made his eyes widen, and halted his response for several seconds. "Her body was stolen, before any exams were done."

"Stolen? But...how the hell did that happen?"

"From the reports I have, someone set off the fire alarm at the hospital she was taken to and got away with her body and personal effects while the staff was distracted." As Alex held his drooping head up with one hand, his father placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're looking into who may have done it, but I thought you deserved to know."

"Thanks, Dad." His father gave him a minute, likely to let it all sink in, before he left his room. For the remainder of the night, Alex didn't leave the house.

Tuesday, August 30th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Crescent

As his classes drew closer the next day, despite his wounds being fully healed, his unease from before began to take root. Writing off the three hours he needed to stay as not that long didn't suppress it, nor did reminding himself that he'd done this once already. It was still three hours, and he'd be around strangers for almost all of it.

When he arrived, Alex took a few minutes to sit outside the side entrance before walking in. The unease continued to build, and peaked when the professor closed the classroom door. He did his best to listen and ignore the feelings throughout the seventy-five minutes of class, but once that time was up, he made haste out of the room and split off from the other students.

He found a spot away from the packed hallways and sat to think some more. Was this how he was going to go through his remaining years of college, or the rest of his life? Constantly in fear of people who barely knew anything about him? He covered his face with both hands, breathing a heavy sigh. He had to be able to control or relax these feelings somehow.

As his next class went by, he tried to think positive, imagining Bailey, Marcus, anything uplifting, by his side. He ended up watching the time until class was over, barely noticing what the professor was saying.

Upon leaving the building, and feeling his unease weakening, he began to wonder if something else was playing a role in how he felt. Being caught in class, around so many people, if something more noticeable happened to him was what came to mind first, the coming full moon shortly after.

Wait a second...I wasn't bitten on the full moon... Alex labored on that for a minute before writing it off. The changes to his body had already started. If he had to assume anything right now, it was when he'd first transform.

After loading a lunar calendar app onto his phone, he checked the upcoming full moon date. The twelfth of September, a Monday. It was still a ways off, but the thought of being anywhere near campus with a transformation yet to come wasn't an uplifting thought. I'll just skip that day. It's early in the semester anyway.

Stopping to buy some fast food on his way back home, Alex noticed an increase in the number of police cars driving around town versus the week before. Being careful not to go over the speed limits around them, he returned home wondering what was going on. He hadn't heard any news of high profile crimes and his dad hadn't called him to inform him of anything either. Checking for news updates on his phone's browser yielded no results.

* * *

That same night, as he sat with his parents at the dinner table, Alex felt his chest grow heavy. Thirteen days until the full moon. That was all the time he had to tell them the truth, before he'd have no choice. Or worse.

"Something wrong, son?" his father suddenly asked after a period of silence.

Alex looked up at him, his mother looking at him for a second in turn. "No. Just thinking."

"You've been really quiet since last Friday, though." His mother said.

"Eh..." The first excuse Alex could think of never left his mouth. He felt a push towards breaking the news now, but didn't follow through. "Just wishing I'd paid more attention to that lunatic before."

"You can't change that now, son. Don't dwell on it."

"I'm trying not to."

Friday, September 2nd, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Crescent

As the remainder of his class week grinded by, with no sign of relief outside of his class with Nathan, Alex continued thinking of ways to reign in his unease. The ways that he'd seen canines make themselves feel safer sat in his mind several times, but none of the ideas he came up with in turn felt subtle enough, leaving him to continue imagining Bailey by his side, hoping things would change. His shifts at Blue Moon after work offered a bit of relief thanks to the periods of low customer numbers and his freedom of movement, but until he was home, around his parents and Bailey, he never felt truly relaxed.

* * *

As his last class on Friday ended, he walked with Nathan out of class, hoping to take advantage of the day off work. After a rub of his nose, which had begun running the day before, he pitched the idea of a hang-out, and another attempt at filming at the skatepark.

"I've got some errands to run in a while, man. Sorry," Nathan explained.

"No worries. Marcus and I are off-shift today. I'll see if he can help."

"Good luck...oh, did you notice the increase in police patrols around here lately?"

"Yeah, I did. No idea why it's happening, though."

"No word on anyone else getting attacked?"

Alex shook his head.

"What about Angela? Any word?"

Alex glanced away. "Yeah...she didn't make it."

Nathan responded after some seconds went by, giving Alex enough time to lean towards leaving out the body theft details. "I had a feeling."

"She didn't tell anybody anything about what attacked her either."

Nathan responded with a lengthened shaking of his head. Alex held his breath.

"So, we'll never know what killed her?"

"Don't think so. I still think it's a dog she knew."

"Makes the most sense, I guess. Or that wolf."

A chill touched Alex's nerves. "Would be a hell of a coincidence if it was."

"Yeah...oh, I gotta go. Later, man."

"You too." Alex said after a quick handshake.

Once he lost sight of Nathan, he pulled out his phone and dialed Marcus' number. A meeting was soon set for 3:30 and Alex set out for the skatepark after getting some lunch.

When he arrived, seven other people were filling the park, five of whom were skaters sessioning different rails and structures or just relaxing. As he waited for an opening in the roundabout of riders, Alex tried to relax his anxiety and ignore the few eyes he knew were on him. He pulled out of a single grind wanting to return to simply riding.

As he rode behind one of the ramp structures, the familiarity of one of the skaters near the entrance caught his attention. After a second to think, Alex recognized him as the guy he'd checked out earlier in the week.

"Don't I know you from the comic shop?" he asked when he saw Alex coming.

"Yeah. I'm Alex." He held out his hand to his past customer, who returned the shake. "You?"

"Cameron."

"You skate here very often?"

"No, not really."

"Let me guess. Things are too cramped here?"

"Yeah." said one from the group near Cameron. "Like that quarterpipe you were riding on a second ago."

"And the fact that we're too cramped just standing by this thing," Cameron added, slapping the ramp structure he stood next to.

"Looks it," Alex glanced away as his anxiety crested, pretending to look towards the parking lot. As he began to imagine Marcus arriving, and a relief to his unease, the sound of his phone ringing drew his attention. He answered it to find him on the other line, with news that something had come up on his end.

"Well, that sucks."

"Sorry, man. Can't help it."

"It's okay. Thanks for offering to help."

"You're welcome. I'll catch you later, man."

"You, too. Later, Marcus."

"Was he coming over here, too?" Cameron asked as Alex hung up.

"Was, yeah. I was hoping he could do some filming with me, but something came up with his folks."

"You doing a sponsor video?"

Alex shook his head. "Nothing serious right now. It would be fun to be sponsored, but I'll let that come on its own."

Cameron nodded at that. "Believe me, that's always better."

"How so? You ride for a company?"

"In a way, yes. You ever heard of a place called Tampa Skateshop?"

Alex jumped on the question. "No, but you were wearing a T-shirt with their logo the other day. Forgot to ask you about it back then."

"Ah, cool. I need to meet with the owner about a video segment I'm doing for the shop in a little while. I can show you where the shop is, and I think you'll like what we have there."

Alex accepted the offer and followed Cameron toward the south side of town.

* * *

When he saw the building the shop occupied, a whole, large storefront, he wondered why he'd not heard of the place until today. After slipping his helmet off, he rubbed at the growing pressure around his nose, and then followed Cameron inside.

Like Blue Moon Comics, the shop was large and the stock on display varied. Both walls to his sides were lined with new decks, parts, and clothing, with a small ramp and rail near the back of the shop. While it was currently occupied, what he saw behind the black walls and chain-link fence to his right was even more grin-worthy: a mini skatepark.

"Dude, you weren't kidding," Alex said, his smile not shrinking.

"Yep. We've got everything here. Take a look around."

As Cameron headed toward someone probably in his late forties, Alex did just that, the right most case closest to the door being his first stop. Most of the items on display were wheels and bearings, both blank and professional designs. The multitude of designs and brands on display drew him closer and into a crouch.

Feeling his nose running again, Alex wiped it again. Seconds later, it felt irritated and warm, as if something had been rubbed inside his nostrils.

While massaging the skin there, he caught the scents of sweat and heated rubber from his motorcycle handles on his palm, and two other mild ones he didn't recognize. A quick inhale to try and clear his nose brought several more scents with it. Mild ones he didn't recognize, and sharper ones that he did.

The irritation didn't stop. It bore deeper, into the roof of his mouth, past his skull, towards his throat. Oh, shit. What's happening?

His heart begin to race, and he freed a hand to cover it. Breathing through his mouth a few times, his nose kept picking up the smells on his hand and the many others around him. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but despite not moving or pulling his hands away, he started smelling the products from the glass cabinet. The lubricants, the waxes, the urethane of the wheels, the fresh plywood, the glass cleaner...

With each new breath, even though his mouth, his nose pulled in more scents. Alex lost track of how many as the irritation continued to affect him and burrow deeper into his head. He then held his breath to try and collect himself but his racing heart didn't allow it for long.

His first recovery breath drew the same scents as before, but when he caught them, how, what felt to him, fractured they were snatched his attention. What had been a single wooden scent of plywood had become one of fresh wood and two aged adhesives. The glass cleaner, once a single sharp, sterilized scent, was reeking of four different compounds, then five, then seven. As Alex kept breathing, the rest of the scents fractured like the plywood and glass cleaner, or continued to.

The irritation then reached his brain, leeching into his sinuses once it did. With his focus split, he kept his eyes closed and turned his head away from the case. The scents coming from it didn't weaken, and the sinus irritation turned around into brain pressure. The kind that felt no different from a dehydration headache. As Alex squeezed his forehead, he bit his tongue to try to reign in his now quivering breathing, directing his breaths to his nostrils in turn, flooding them with what felt like over a hundred scents.

The first open breath was all it took for him to wrap his nose and mouth with his jacket. The foreign smells quickly weakened, replaced by the familiar ones soaked into the aged denim of his jacket, before he pinched his nose shut.

As he continued breathing through his mouth, Alex forced himself to stand. The shakiness of his limbs and stance pushed him to lean against the counter. Once the pressure on his brain began to weaken, he opened his eyes to relieve them from being squeezed so tightly shut, letting tears drip from both.

With a wipe of his eyes, he glanced to his left, seeing no one paying attention to him. His breathing eased and the pressure in his sinuses slowly faded until he felt better; though his head and face remained warm, the lingering shakiness throughout his body changed into a biting chill when he thought about what had just happened to him, and how quick it had come and then gone.

As Alex released the hold on his nose, despite not breathing through it, it was flooded once again with the scent makeups of aged denim from his jacket and aged cotton from his T-shirt, as well as everything those two pieces of clothing had absorbed since their last washing. Every piece of their makeups tested his brain's focus until he pinched his nose shut again.

After another wipe of his eyes, the sound of footsteps pulled his attention to his left. An employee was coming his way behind the counter.

It didn't take him long to notice something was wrong. "You okay?"

Alex released his nose before he replied, trying in vain not to breathe through it. "Yeah. Something made my nose run all of a sudden. Don't know what."

"Hang on a sec." The employee reached behind the counter and produced a box of tissues; Alex thanked him and grabbed a handful to cover his nose. The sharp scents of the chemicals in the thin, sterilized paper overpowered everything else before he blew his nose. "Nose decided to screw with you, huh?"

More than you know."Yeah. Ugh."

"Were you looking for anything earlier?"

"Not really. Just browsing. Nice selection, though."

"Thanks. If you need anything, just let me or Walter know."

Nodding before the employee departed, Alex held his hands to stop them from quivering, pretending to look over the decks behind the counter. Okay, calm down. He didn't suspect anything. With a few spare tissues over his nose to block out the weaker scents, he pushed himself away from the counter and moved towards the most open space that he could stand in.

He relieved his nose and got a full breath with far fewer scents to process before noticing Cameron heading his way, his board tucked under his arm. "Hey. What do you think so far?" he asked when he got close.

"Really nice place." Alex replied, pocketing the tissue and trying not to focus on the new scents wafting from Cameron's clothing, or his breath.

"If you want, you can go ride around the park for a minute," Cameron said, thumbing towards it. "Just be sure to say hello to Walter, that older guy over there. He's the shop owner, and the guy you'll need to impress if you want to ride for this place."

Alex nodded, glad that Cameron didn't notice what the employee had. "I'll keep that in mind. Actually, what was that video part you were talking about before?"

"It's for the store's promotional video." Cameron said as he spun the wheels of his board. "We're considering making shorter ones for more online promotion."

"I look forward to seeing it once it's done."

"Thanks. One of the guys is editing it right now, so check back in a few days. It should be done by then."

After nodding again, Alex thanked Cameron for showing him to the store and wrapped his jacket around his face again once he was out of his view. A few stray scents wafted up the gaps between his jacket and his chest, his exhale to blow them away taking their place. When he at last began heading in Walter's direction, keeping his mouth doing the breathing, he kept a hand at the ready in case he had to fake a yawn and block his nose.

Despite the exchange of a handshake, Alex felt his unease coming on as he started talking to him. Not only from Walter's unfamiliarity, but how easily he could draw attention to himself in the position he was.

For a time, their chat went similarly to Alex's introduction to Trevor; he gave his name, then elaborated on how long he'd been skating versus gaming and reading comics. When Walter mentioned his arrival with Cameron, Alex pointed out how he'd shown him the directions to the shop. "He didn't say how long you've been open, but I'm guessing this place is fairly new."

"A few months, in fact. Not many regulars outside of the people looking for a good skatepark."

"I see. Uh, do you mind if I ride in the park for a while?"

"Not at all, and I can keep your stuff back here if you need."

"All right. Thanks." As he pulled his backpack off, Alex noticed a ledger saying there was a five dollar per hour charge for the park.

While reaching into his pocket for a bill, Walter got his attention. "I'll give you a few hours on the house since this is your first time here." After thanking him for the offer and leaving his backpack, hoping it wouldn't smell too much once he took it back, Alex headed for the entrance gate.

With his hand by his nose, ready to block it if his olfactory sense started overwhelming him, he was five feet from the gate before he had to do it; upwards of fifty scents, from maybe thirteen to seventeen cores, made it around his hand. Most were clothing scents, and the stains and cleaners from the fabrics. Someone had been rubbing wax on a board, and the smells of meat and cheese were still in the air.

Once past the gate, the size of the park itself slowed his pace, his attention going everywhere. It was, at least, five times the size of the one in his neighborhood. A halfpipe and a raised seating area lined the entirety of the right wall, the back wall lined with inclines and elevated ramp lips. An elevated platform to the left of the entrance showcased a quarterpipe, a rail, a ledge and a six-stair set, with a grindbox attached to the right side of it.

Grinning at the sight of it all, he made his way to the halfpipe first, standing on the higher lip and gauging the drop for a minute. Although he picked up more scents during the climb, giving him a laundry list of things that had recently been there, as soon as he dropped into the pipe and the air began rushing past his face, the intensity of the scents weakened.

Within half an hour, he was working up a sweat from keeping up lines of Ollies, grinds and fliptricks, trying to stay on the move to not let his head process any set of smells for long. When he felt that his legs needed a rest, the viewing area was where he went, looking down over the other skaters in the park, away from the scents below.

Wrapping his jacket over his face again, as the minutes passed, he began to notice how much different it felt to use his nose now. With each breath he took, he felt the extent of his olfactory mucosa working to catch scent traces. He could feel their extent further back in his throat and nasal passages, even within his sinuses. The spots where the irritation had affected him. And unlike before, where only two or three intense smells would catch his attention while the weaker ones all meshed into a defining whole, nearly every unique scent makeup that was strong enough to linger in the air was fighting for his olfactory attention. Breathing through his mouth did offer relief, but only so far as slowing the air flow to his nose.

As he kept the fabric of his jacket over his face, some weak scent traces began leaking through. His brain processed the new scents so quickly, with each new breath, he'd lose track of some and find new ones.

When he heard more skaters enter the park, his skin felt a chill and his hand went over his heart again. Suddenly, he didn't feel safe being in the park, in public and around strangers. Looking down and out into the park again, though he saw no one paying attention to him, the idea of going home to recuperate felt better than staying.

As he left, Alex bought some fresh wax and a set of blank white wheels before exchanging another handshake with Walter. Faking a yawn as the front door was opened, the late afternoon winds rushed past his hand and up his nose. It brought smells of cooked and fast food, the exhaust from the cars on the nearby highway, and hundreds more he couldn't identify before he lost them. He squeezed his nose shut as his brain went to work, releasing it only once his breath was held.

Once his helmet was on his head and the visor pulled down, the wildly varying urban scents in the pocket of air it created were replaced by his recirculating breaths; the traces that leaked back in from the heat vents in the helmet remained weak.

Alex shivered under his jacket as he took a seat on his bike. Why had his sense of smell changed so suddenly, and why now? Reaching for his phone to check the lunar calendar, the full moon was ten days away. Too far away, in his mind, to make his body change like this.

But then, his healing had become exponentially faster within minutes of the attack a week ago, and his animal-like fear of strangers hadn't fully shown until two days later, well after the day he'd been with his friends in a heavily populated mall. For a moment, Alex thought there was a pattern to the changes, but they were all showing without warning, and he had no idea what else would prove true about his lycanthropy.

He felt his eyes get misty and his throat constrict as the more upsetting scenarios ran through his head. For all he knew, he would grow a tail before the full moon came, have his canines lengthen into fangs in a few days, or go completely feral once he'd shifted. No one was there to tell him what was coming or how to prepare. And if something happened that exposed him, or put him in danger, where was he supposed to turn for help?

He'd not seen hide nor hair of the were that attacked him since that night, but doubted it would be hospitable in any way if it was attacking people outside of the full moon. And his friends? What would he tell them if they were caught in the middle of something he caused because of this?

With a labored swallow, Alex tried telling himself that things weren't as bad as he was fearing. He could take solace in the fact that no one had deeply questioned him about some of his new mannerisms yet, but even with that, he feared it was only a matter of time.

Once he was back home, the sight of his father's truck in the driveway got him to hesitate on opening the front door. He'd been working the graveyard shift the night before, and would likely be awake. If a strong scent caught him off guard in front of him...

His staring at the crack between the door and frame soon gave him an idea. He pulled one of the spare tissues, covered his nose and then looked around. No one was walking the streets, but a car was coming his way. After it disappeared, Alex exhaled, removed the tissue and leaned towards the crack, feeling his ears warm up as he did so.

The closest outdoor scents were the strongest, but after two sniffs, a familiar scent of fur reached him. Bailey was nearby; the rest of the scents he noticed faded too quickly to identify.

After replacing the tissue, he unlocked the door and let himself in. Bailey jumped up to see him from where he'd been sitting, tail wagging and tongue lolling. The scents within his dog's pelt and breath registered immediately in Alex's head, along with the weaker ones he'd noticed within the air. Most were mild, but all were familiar, preventing his head from spinning. "Good boy, Bailey. I missed you too." Alex said as he rubbed his pet's head and ears.

His father got his attention as he walked through the front room, letting him know dinner was coming once his mother was home. Almost on cue, Alex's stomach grumbled.

* * *

"Whoa, son. Leave a bit for us," Alex looked over to his father as he returned with his third dinner plate, avoiding sitting in turn.

"Oh. Sorry."

"No, no. Sit down," His mother said as he stepped back towards the kitchen. "We've got enough."

"You sure?" Alex caught the hint of humor in his father's voice. "He's eaten maybe half the lasagna in fifteen minutes."

Alex shrugged. "I was hungry."

"No kidding. You spend all afternoon skating?"

"Yeah, but not at the park this time. I met one of my customers from the comic store there and he showed me a new skate shop south of here. Only been open a few months but wow, this place..." Alex stalled to stop himself from gushing too much. "Can't believe I never heard of it before."

"What's it called?"

"Tampa Skateshop. It's a skate store with a built-in park."

"So, you can ride there instead of at the park?"

Alex looked to his mother after she spoke, wondering why she suddenly sounded so unsure. Angela's death was back on his mind in a split-second. "Yeah." He began, "It looks like a nice place to hang out and ride, but it's a bit of a drive and I have to pay to use the park." His folks both showed hints of confusion at that statement. "Still, it seems worth it."

"Pay to use the park, you said?" Alex gave a 'Yeah', and his mother continued. "What for?"

"Maintenance costs. There's a lot of stuff in that place that could wear down and break."

When his third plate was finished, even though he could've gone for dessert, Alex passed on eating any more before holding back a few burps. Figuring it was another of his wolf-like habits appearing, he let the appetite spike stay confined to his father's brief comment.

Chapter 7 - Reasonings

Sunday, September 4th, 2011

Moon Phase - First Quarter

The night of Alex's sensory change saw him juggle his attention between the dozens of scents in his room and the comics he was reading until sleep took over. The next day, he took advantage of his day off to try and better grasp his new olfactory senses.

At first, the new scents he picked up simply walking around the house were a constant reminder of how sudden, and impactful, the change had been. All kinds of scents now made themselves known. The ones lingering on his vet assistant scrubs, among many other things, sparked years-old memories when he noticed them. The ones that contrasted greatly from what was around him -- spices, paints, cleaners and the like -- took longer to stand being around, or made him reel from the source at a greater distance. Several times, he wondered if his olfactory senses were now as sensitive as Bailey's, or more so, and if this was the kind of thing his dog experienced every time he took him for a walk.

By late afternoon Saturday, Alex had formed a scent map of the house and most of the front yard; every animal that had passed through the yard recently, and the occasional bird in the trees, he could smell with some effort. The lingering scent markings from other dogs stood out as well, and were no less repulsive than before.

Unlike his new sense of smell, his appetite remained mostly the same; two or three meals between all the riding around on his skateboard. After skipping breakfast Saturday morning, he wrote off gorging himself on Friday as a result of not eating much the entire day and having it catch up to him later.

* * *

With both Blue Moon and the Tampa shop closed on Sunday, Alex stayed close to the house, getting in some time skating on his personal grindbox while throwing balls for Bailey. During the afternoon, a text came from Catherine.

Catherine W.: I haven't heard from you in a while. Something up?

Alex S.: No. Just not a lot is going on.

Catherine W.: I see.

Her next text came after a short pause.

_ I'm thinking of getting us all together for a hangout next weekend. Are you off Saturday?"_

Skateboard in hand, Alex considered his response. Saturday was two days from the full moon, six from the day it was. Any of those six could be a day that something more obvious than a sensory change could happen to him; the closer to the full moon, the more drastic, he feared, such a change would be if it happened.

Alex S.: I think so, but I'll get back to you on that.

Catherine W.: Okay. Later, then.

Alex pocketed his phone only to remember that that sort of drastic change could just as easily happen around his parents, and his old fears of what they would do, or say to him, if it did came back. The idea of telling them the truth grew heavy in his mind, but as he came inside and walked past them, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

When he kept his head down throughout his first plate of food that night, his mother spoke up. "You're awful quiet tonight."

_Just get it over with._Alex shook his head after staying silent for almost too long. "Just thinking about stuff."

"You haven't said much about your first week of class."

"Nothing special about it so far."

"You miss your old job?" his father asked.

"A little."

"I thought you would."

Though Alex felt his drive to tell his folks the truth fade with that statement, the lump in his chest didn't go away. Not today. Tomorrow. I still have time.

Monday, September 5th, 2011

Moon Phase - First Quarter

Days until the Full Moon - 7

Alex arrived at campus early on Monday, the same onset of anxiety coming on as he walked towards the main building. The mass of new and familiar scent makeups rushed his nose once inside, their wild variations making his head spin until he covered his nose. His brain eventually concentrated on a handful as he made his way upstairs.

With the room empty, his head cleared and he had some time to read, but as more bodies entered the room, the growing number of scent collections, some of them rather nasty, made his head swirl again. Eventually, not wanting to keep smelling the other students, he got up and moved within two seats of the door as the air-conditioner kicked on. The rush of air helped clear some of the sea of scents, but at this point, it was just him losing an annoying battle. Being at the front of the class also made his anxiety worse. Almost every set of eyes could see him in that spot.

As the professor arrived, he reached inside his backpack for the class papers he needed, pulling some air from the pocket past his nose. The scent of Bailey's fur was among the many he found drifting on the current, and his anxiety laxed within seconds of noticing it.

Realizing what was going on, Alex pulled his backpack up onto the desk. The scents from it easily drifted near his nostrils with each lift and drop of the front he made while faking a search for stuff within the pocket, keeping him calm during the rest of class.

Now with an idea of how his heightened sense of smell could help him, Alex repeated the process with Nathan nearby, keeping his backpack close in case he needed it. His friend's jacket was laced with paper and ink scents common to role-playing manuals and trade paperbacks, plus fresh plastic and shipping supplies in line with console game cases. The familiar scents helped for a time, but then a mild one he couldn't identify sent a chill through his nerves.

The hell was that?

Nathan didn't notice him shudder. Alex wrapped his arms around his gut. Whatever that scent had been, the feeling it gave him, a feeling as if he'd been publicly shamed, stuck with him until he left for work.

* * *

Arriving home after his shift to find his folks relaxing in the living room, Alex heard Bailey come running when the door opened. "Hey boy. I missed you, too." he said as his pet circled him, his wagging tail bumping his legs. Coaxing him back to his room, Alex dropped his stuff onto the bed and sat down against the foot of it. Bailey came in close, licking his face a bit before he seemed to lose enthusiasm.

"Something wrong, boy?" Alex asked as he reached a hand up to his pet's furry neck. His fingers ran through Bailey's fur until he heard a soft growl. Pulling his hand away, his pet didn't make any further noise, instead settling down with his head laying over his paws.

Wondering what Bailey had made the noise for, Alex locked eyes with him but refrained from stroking him. Wish you could just talk to me...Wait. Is something about to happen to me?

As he turned that thought over, Alex recalled an article he'd read just before leaving the vet about dogs being able to predict seizures and smell cancer cells. While wondering in turn if the same idea applied to physical alterations in werewolves, he kept still and waited. All he felt was his elevated pulse slowing down over the course of a minute, and then when he brought his hand close to Bailey's muzzle, his dog lazily sniffed it but did nothing else. Even when he resumed stroking his head and neck.

Despite the inaction, Alex couldn't help thinking Bailey had noticed something. It had to be subdermal if nothing about his outside appearance was changing, but what? A sickening thought then came to him and he imagined his skin ripping and falling off when the transformation happened to make way for a pelt underneath.

He swallowed hard and squeezed an arm as that thought faded, his pulse picking up again; much as he wanted to forget the very idea, for all he knew, that was what he was in for. A moment later, Bailey pulled his head up before getting up and closing in to lick his face.

As Alex thanked him and scratched his ears, he once again thought about telling his parents what was going on. He only needed a minute to do it, and late at night was a better time than most...but then he began doubting how much they'd believe him with just his scars to go on. His olfactory sense wouldn't do it either.

Am I any stronger?_At that thought, Alex got up and faced his bed. The individual wooden parts were heavy enough, but once he'd hooked his hands underneath the front of the frame and attempted to lift it, it was clear nothing about his strength had been affected. _Okay. What else could I try?

When he got the idea to test his speed, he found one of Bailey's tennis balls and coaxed him outside. With the porch lights on and the yard lit just enough, he pitched the ball as soon as he crossed the threshold; Bailey charged after it, catching it as it rebounded off the small oak tree in the front yard.

"Bailey. Bring it." Alex waited for his dog to return and drop the ball, then walked out into the front yard with it in hand. At the far end, he hurled the ball down the yard's length as hard as he could, and as his pet took off after it, Alex followed with as heavy a sprint as he could manage. It was no use. Bailey was still faster than he was and retrieved the ball before he ran past the impact spot.

As Alex slid to a stop in the grass, feeling assured that at least those two things about him hadn't changed, he waited for Bailey to bring him the tennis ball again. No further ideas of what to test came to him while he continued tossing the ball around the yard, but the sight of a shadow on the bay window curtains got his chest to tighten.

He'd let it slide yesterday. Only seven days were left. The more time they had to process things...but what if they stayed nearby and he went feral during the shift?

When the front door opened, his father stepped out onto the front entry, his hair messy from the nap he'd woken from. "Hey, Dad." Alex said as he came close, Bailey close behind.

"Hey, son. I'm heading to bed. Just checking to see if you were home."

"Alright."

"You staying up a while?"

Alex glanced past his father, towards his mother. Maybe his folks wouldn't be as upset or scared with sleep so close. Maybe he could convince them to leave the house when it happened.

"You look bothered. Did something happen?"

"Eh...some guy was short with Marcus." Alex said after looking back at him. "Got me angry."

"Yeah. You'll see people like that no matter where you work."

"Yeah."

"That reminds me, are you working next Sunday?"

Hmm? "No, the store's closed on Sundays. Why?"

"I need you to watch the house for us that day."

"Okay. Something going on?"

"Officer Baker just got promoted, so your mother and I are going to a celebration for him."

"This an all-day thing?"

"Yeah. We'll be leaving in the morning and coming back Monday afternoon."

_Oh, no._Alex's heart raced. If he didn't tell them and went feral... "You working second shift Tuesday? I can watch the house Monday too."

"I don't think you'll need to."

Alex felt his lungs knot. He had to say something, anything, but nothing came.

"Well, I'll see you in the morning, son. Goodnight."

"You too, Dad." The words Alex needed came to him as the front door closed. With his chance gone, his thoughts quickly shifted to how he could free up the house for one more day.

The next few hours wore on with planning dominating most of his thoughts. His folks weren't party animals, but if they were staying somewhere overnight, that meant alcohol. Likely no shifts to hurry home to either. As sleep drew closer, he rehearsed his pitch. Casual, but insistent. That was his goal. Dad, I insist. I'll watch the house Monday. If you guys have that day off, go have fun.

Tuesday, September 6th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Gibbous

Days until Full Moon - 6

When he awoke Tuesday morning however, it was six fifty-three and his dad was already off to work, his mother close behind. After waving her off, Alex slammed a fist into his leg once she was out of sight. He had to work after class, meaning little casual time with his folks. As he got some milk, he thought to call his dad and pitch the idea, but without his mother nearby, he was risking one of them staying.

Returning to his room, one set of fingers running through his hair, he looked around for something that was thick with Bailey's scent to bring to class. Finding a tennis ball near his dog bed, he brought it into the kitchen and set it down a few feet away. It took a minute for him to notice the scents from it, but bringing his head closer to the tabletop intensified them. Perfect. A quick wave of air should do the trick. Seeing Bailey watch him like he was planning to go outside, Alex obliged him until he had to leave.

* * *

With the tennis ball proving useful as a counter to his anxiety, Alex grinded through his classes and his shift at Blue Moon. The customers he had to help provided only brief distraction from rehearsing his pitch, which he almost said out loud twice.

It was walking into the house that night that truly made his chest tighten. He had his words in mind but if he couldn't convince his folks...

"Did you already eat?" His mother asked when Alex entered the kitchen.

"No, but I'll get something." While shuffling by his father, Alex found the scent collection of burnt gunpowder hanging around his uniform. "What rank is Baker at with his promotion?"

"Sergeant." His father replied.

Okay, good. Keep it up."He enjoying the position?"

"Hard to say. He's got more work to do, but he hasn't complained to me yet."

"Sounds like he'll be celebrating as much as he can Sunday."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

Bingo. Alex kept his smile reserved, but his pulse rose at the tone of excitement in his mother's voice. "If you guys want, I'll watch the house Monday as well. I don't mind."

"Uh...I don't think we'll be gone that long." His father said.

Damnit. "You both have that day off, right?"

"We do, yes, but we don't need to stay out all day."

Alex held off immediately responding. Don't push it yet. As he avoided eye contact with his folks and headed for the microwave, his mother spoke up.

"Did you make plans for that day?"

"Sort of." He stalled for a moment to think of an excuse. "Might have Marcus or Nathan over."

"How's he doing, by the way?" his father asked.

"What...oh, Nathan? He's fine."

"That's good to hear."

As Alex waited for the microwave to go off, he struggled to find something to continue the route of persuasion. "We'll likely be here, so I don't mind watching the house for a second day." His parents didn't respond to that; during the silence that followed, whether it was his gut or his heart telling him not to say any more, Alex did just that.

Chapter 8 - The Company of Friends

Wednesday, September 7th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Gibbous

Days until Full Moon - 5

The next day, with his mind set on enjoying a few more hours at the skateshop once classes were over, he rushed out the door ahead of most of the students; though their scents were becoming more familiar, it did nothing to his desire to get away from all of them at first chance. Nathan was close behind, and Alex only had to veer left to direct him out of the student crowd.

"What was that you were saying before class?" Nathan asked once he'd caught up.

"One of my customers from last week showed me to a new skatepark. Damn nice place."

"Sounds like it. How's the comic store treating you, by the way?"

"It's fun. Already seen my first angry customer though, which was not."

Nathan laughed. "When people ask you about their sick pets and how they're doing, they're usually a lot nicer, aren't they?"

"Yeah." As Alex followed his friend to the first floor before splitting off to leave, he was reminded of the get-together but didn't say anything about it. Phone in hand, and IM app open, he couldn't bring himself to begin typing as he walked to his bike. He didn't want to say he couldn't come, but was it really worth the risk otherwise? Nobody's seen the scars yet...I wouldn't have to hide them for very long. He labored on that thought before giving it over to how close the full moon would be that day. That he couldn't look past.

* * *

Once Alex arrived at the skateshop, he kept his helmet on with the visor cracked for a few seconds to let his nose and head adjust. At least two skaters were in the park versus the three window shoppers on the sale floor, the lack of familiarity in the scents near the door leaving him assuming Cameron wasn't around.

Though Walter acknowledged him as soon as he took his helmet off, Alex kept his distance, pretending to look through the nearby rack of T-shirts and parts in the cabinet, until he would be the only one standing near him. It didn't take long, but even once he got to talking, keeping from glancing at the other bodies when they moved, or keeping from paying attention to the scents that kept wafting up his nose, proved difficult.

"Sorry." Alex said as he pulled a tissue from his jacket pocket; he pretended to wipe his nose to give it relief from the sudden discovery of a customer's rank scent. "Of all the weeks to get a runny nose."

Walter chuckled at that. "At least it doesn't keep you from skating."

"Uh huh." Hope this guy doesn't track that smell in the park. Alex shot a glance at the customer who'd left the scent trail before he put forward a question to Walter. "On that though, when did you start skating? The seventies or..."

Walter cut him off with a negative sounding hum. "Around eighty-six actually."

"The decade when Rodney Mullen was making waves."

"Yep, and thankfully long after the kids your age were taking apart roller skates to make skateboards."

"Whatever works I guess."

"It was clever back then. Would be still I think."

"Yeah...something like that would've been better than the 'Wal-Mart board' I had at first."

"Oh," Walter replied as though he had heard that story a number of times before. "I take it you noticed it was bad pretty quickly."

Before Alex answered, he heard a customer come in. Seeing a mother and her son, a board tucked under his arm, Alex spotted the straight contour of the deck in seconds. After Walter acknowledged her, and the mother said she was just looking around, he continued. "Sort of. An older kid noticed me riding it and showed me how cheap it was. And it looks like this kid has one of those boards."

Walter took a second look. "Yep. Good eye."

"Hope he hasn't had it long." Alex then watched the kid and his mother walk over to the parts counter, the trucks on display seeming to be their focus. _He's a newbie, alright. Probably got that thing as a toy somewhere._Alex pushed away from the counter and followed the trail the two had walked. As he noticed the scents of the board amidst the ones coming from the two bodies, and some that reminded him of the last toy store he'd been in, the faded memories of his junk board were sparked.

When asked by the kid's mother if he worked for the store, though Alex gave a 'No', he spent the next fifteen minutes detailing to them the poor quality of the board. The kid's reactions to what he said was a near parallel to when he'd been in his position: Interest, then disappointment as he was told, however indirectly, that what he had was a waste of money. The mother's was what he expected: confusion at first, then shock and surprise.

The result was the two leaving the store, saying they would be back once they'd gotten a refund for the junk board; the smile Alex gained was shared by Walter when he looked back at him.

* * *

Though the skatepark was housing a few unpleasant scents, Alex followed the same routine from the day his olfactory sense changed over the next hour: Keeping on the move to weaken the aerial scents, and staying high up, either in the viewing area or atop a ramp/quarterpipe structure, when he wanted to relax.

Each time he stopped skating, his thoughts returned to the meet on Saturday. As the idea of skipping it continued to build, something occurred to him. His parents had begun to show suspicion about his behavior. Would his friends do the same if he skipped the meet after so long a time of not saying yes or no to it? He and Marcus were both off that day, and no believable excuses otherwise came to mind.

_Where's she thinking of holding it?_Alex pulled his phone out at that thought and got his IM app up and pulled up the old texts between him and her. If the mall, a theatre, or anywhere else that was heavily crowded, he'd skip.

Alex S: Catherine? Is everyone coming on Saturday?

When the text was sent, Alex's pulse rose a few beats.

Catherine's reply came around a minute later.

Catherine W: So far, everyone except you.

Alex S: Where are we meeting?

Catherine W: Nathan's place.

Seeing that response calmed Alex's nerves; Nathan lived just a few blocks from his house. OK, good.

Alex S: You thinking about seeing a movie or something like last time?

Catherine W: Nah. Figure we'll just order a pizza and game for a few hours.

More of Alex's unease melted away. He could afford a few hours of that.

Alex S: I'll be there. What time?

Catherine W: Six-thirty.

Alex S: Alright. Thanks.

Catherine W: See you then.

* * *

Saturday, September 10th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Gibbous

Days until the Full Moon - 2

The next few days passed with little change in Alex's routines. A few times during those days, he thought of trying again to convince his parents to stay out longer, but when the words came to him with them around, his skin would tighten, as though his confidence was being drained out of him.

When Saturday came, Alex awoke to crushing pressure behind his eyes. As he massaged his eye sockets, the pressure began to fade, his phone serving as the first clock he checked once his eyes opened. _Four forty-seven?_The question of how bad the pressure had to have been to wake him up so early was soon replaced by him realizing how bright his room was becoming, despite his blinds being shut and barely any moonlight getting in.

He switched on his desk lamp after a moment, the bright yellow tint making him squint and shield his eyes until he shut it off again. The darkness that followed was gradually replaced by the increasing level of light, enough to let him identify general details of most of his belongings without turning the lights on.

As he sat in bed, Alex placed a hand over his chest, feeling his pulse dip with each second. Was this the last permanent change until Monday? Hoping that it would be, he tried to go back to sleep, succeeding after a few minutes.

What he found after the sun rose was no change to his color vision or the color of his irises, which left the insides of his eyes as what had been affected. When that thought crossed his mind, it brought on a shiver. Canine eyes shined in direct light.

_Wait...will my eyes even do that?_After recovering his bedside flashlight, Alex returned to the bathroom, shutting and locking both the hallway and shower room doors before taking a breath and clicking on the flashlight. The LEDs produced a crisp white beam of light, which he slowly maneuvered in the mirror towards his eyes.

As the weakest parts of the beam reached them, Alex's hands started to shake and his heartbeat rose; the insides of his eyes shined a faded yellow, even with weak direct light. Oh, shit. A swallow followed his discovery, and the quivering of his limbs remained after he tried to convince himself that not every light source would cause that.

* * *

Six-o-clock came at a quicker pace than Alex wanted; as his skateboard propelled him down the streets, the streetlights resetting his nightvision every so often, he snuck a few glances at the moon, hoping nothing would happen to make him leave early.

He arrived to find only Nathan's sedan in the driveway, though with the ringing of the doorbell, Ginger, his Yellow Labrador, started barking. "Hush, girl. Sit." Nathan's commands were quickly followed by him opening the door. "Hey, man."

"Hey." Alex replied. With the scents of the house already swarming his nose, he was quick to find those of Ginger's pelt. Though it wasn't unfamiliar, the anxiety the scent brought out got his head to turn away, and delayed the rest of his sentence. "Figured I'd come early."

"Nice. C'mon inside." As he crossed the threshold into the house, a chill gripped Alex's skin. Ginger's scent was even stronger inside. "You thirsty?"

"A bit. Just water is fine."

While Alex followed his friend into the kitchen, he noticed Ginger trailing them but keeping her distance from him; as they set out the snacks and drinks on the living room table, he continued to keep his eye on her, just in case she reacted to him more noticeably than Bailey. Instead, Ginger made it apparent though the lowering of her head, multiple licks of Nathan's hands, and how close she stayed to him, that she wanted her owner's attention, and likely protection.

"Wonder why she's being so loving all of a sudden." Nathan said as he stroked her. Alex shrugged in response but with Ginger's reaction, he now had a better idea of what Bailey had seen in him before; Marcus and Catherine's arrival produced the same behavior.

"You bought it, didn't you?" Nathan asked after the front door was opened. Alex looked towards him and then Catherine, seeing a large black device with a couple of wires in her hands, along with an XBOX game case.

"Yep." Catherine said, smiling while holding up the game. "Figured we'd all get some fun out of it."

"Dance Central, huh?" As Alex took the game case and looked over it, the amount of movement he saw having to do to play got him to pretend to rub his right arm. An inch of slack was all he had. He shifted his T-shirt a little in response.

* * *

"Almost there, Marcus." Catherine said as he began to finish up one of his dance routines. From the couch nearby, Alex and Nathan watched, laughing as their friend flailed his arms and legs around trying to keep up with the moves that were coming. He missed some as the song ended, but made up for it in the last few seconds.

Pumping his arms in success, Marcus stepped back from the TV and turned to Nathan, his face and short black hair wet with sweat. "You're up, Elvis."

Alex let out a short laugh and smiled as his friend replied. "If you think I'm shaking my hips for this thing, you're wrong."

"Fine. Do a Lady Gaga song then."

"Not much better, man." Alex said. With his friends and himself buzzed on soda and an hour of gaming, the fears he'd been harboring throughout the day had considerably weakened.

"Actually, I know just the one." Nathan said, walking in front of the TV. Picking one of his favorites, he maxed out the difficulty and got himself ready to start.

When he finished, Alex was next, a song that had caught his ear during the last rotation being his choice. With a stretch of his back, and a check of Ginger's location, he set the song difficulty to the second highest.

"Good luck, man." Nathan said. "Don't get your legs twisted."

"Pfft. Just watch me," Alex replied in jest.

The song started off with a long set of up and down body moves, and as it went on with more and more arm flailing, Alex grew more and more absorbed in what was in front of him. Knowing his friends were watching him as much for screw-ups as good play, his stiff movements eased.

As the song wound down, he followed the pose cards on screen as best he could, trying to stay ahead of each move that was coming. With the end in sight, he followed the last side-to-side movement, ending with his left arm flying back and his right in front of his face.

"That was fun." Alex said, straightening up and wiping the sweat from his face. "Catherine, I think you're up." Letting her take the player spot, Alex sat back down on the couch. When he reached for his soda, he felt Nathan tap his shoulder; the look of worry on his face was clear. "Something wrong?"

"No, but when did you get those scars on your arm?"

Alex's pulse jumped. Oh, crap. When did...? He had to have seen it during his last routine. His throat locked up as he clenched a hand and the seconds went by.

"What happened? That looked pretty bad."

Alex felt trapped; he could've kicked himself right then. No lie would help him now.

With Catherine's song nearing the halfway point, Alex reached for his tee sleeve, with as steady a hand as he could muster, and pulled it back to reveal only half the scar's whole. Nathan's wince at the healing job came before a fourth had been shown.

"Holy shit, man." His voice was barely carrying under the loud music from the game.

Alex nodded as best he could, anticipating another question to follow that statement. Instead, he heard Catherine exclaim something in shock, and his attention drifted to her as she paused the game, the house turning silent in turn.

"What?" Marcus asked.

Catherine pointed him towards Alex's exposed arm. "When did that happen?" she asked, leaning on the table.

As he was surrounded by his friends, Alex felt his anxiety rush back, as badly as it had been during class. He wanted to back away, get out of this cornering, but his legs felt loaded with lead. Not here. Damnit. "About two weeks ago." he finally replied, dropping his sleeve in turn.

"Two weeks ago...that night you stopped in front of my driveway?" Nathan asked.

Alex nodded, and then blurted out the first thing he thought of. "The damn thing scared the hell out of me. Wasn't too deep a bite, though."

"That didn't look like surface damage to me, man," Marcus replied. "That looked pretty serious."

Alex cursed to himself as Catherine followed up. "What came after you? Did you see it?"

"The pelt, mostly. Black, maybe dark grey, and tan."

"Was it a wolf, or you not sure?"

Alex's answer hung in his throat at first, his heart still racing. "Had to be."

"Oh, boy. Well, at least you're okay."

Marcus broke the silence that followed. "If you stopped outside here that night..."

Alex jumped in to cut him off. "I didn't go the ER. I went home, patched it up on my own."

"Unnecessary risk, if you ask me."

"If I'd gotten sick, I'd have done that. I've patched up bites before." With expressions of worry lingering on the faces of his friends after saying that, Alex's throat locked up as he turned his eyes away.

The silence remained until Nathan spoke, asking what everyone wanted for the pizza order-in. Thankful to have a different topic brought up, Alex felt the weight on his chest lax. As the night wore on however, despite the pleasant company, he couldn't help feeling that his choice to come was a huge mistake. How often he saw his friends glancing at his arm with barely a word made the feeling worse.

Chapter 9 - The First Transformation

Sunday, September 11th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Gibbous

Days until the Full Moon - 1

The next morning, as Alex stood under the warm stream of water from the showerhead, the approaching departure of his parents kept his thoughts on what he needed to do if they came home before he transformed on Monday. He couldn't stop imagining his parents refusing to leave him alone, or freezing in fear, when the time came, or his father pulling his gun on him if he did go feral.

His attempt to combat those fears by remembering that he and Nathan had been alone with Angela that night, and that the werewolf had let him go, went in vain. Restraint had been shown both times, but not until damage had been done. For a moment, Alex saw reason to think he wouldn't go feral, but then questioned why Angela had been killed and he spared but bitten.

Had the werewolf planned to kill him but then backed off at the last moment?

Its snarling face flashed back to mind, and along with it, the worried expressions of his friends from the night before. Nathan's stuck in mind for longer, and as a realization about that moment clicked, Alex covered his face in shame. Of all the people he should've warned over the last few weeks, and yet didn't...

The patter of water streams disguised the few sounds that escaped him as he held his rushing emotions back at that thought. He could take solace in the fact that his friend hadn't been attacked, and just as well that at least he and the others knew to be careful because of what they'd seen last night, but all of them were still under the impression that wolves were responsible. Not something more.

Once out of the bathroom and back in his room, Alex tried to pass the time reading or gaming. The guilt that had been left by his train of thoughts kept him from enjoying them for long.

* * *

With the arrival of twelve-forty-seven, Alex noticed his father, dressed in uniform, standing near his door. "I thought you had the day off."

"Your mother and I are going to a remembrance service before we meet everyone."

"Where? In First Colony?"

His father nodded. "You coming?"

The tightening of his skin that resulted from thinking about how many people would be there, and where such an event would take place, got Alex to shake his head. "I'll watch it on the news."

"Alright. We'll see you tomorrow then, son."

After exchanging hugs and goodbyes with his folks, Alex closed the front door behind them, watching through the glass display on the door as they drove off. Bailey sat down next to him before he moved again, his tail wagging as soon as he looked at him. "Outside?" Bailey's tail wagged faster. "Thought so. C'mon boy."

The next hour blew by with Bailey absorbed in playing fetch for most of it; when Alex moved to practicing on his grindbox, sticking with Ollies and the occasional Kickflip, his pet laid nearby, the tennis ball nestled between his front legs, only taking his eyes off him when a car went down the road.

He continued to stay by his side as he went inside for a break and something to eat, the opening of a roll of salami getting him to start sniffing at the air and lolling his tongue. Taking part of one of the sliced circles of meat, Alex held it near Bailey's nose, watching him follow it without jumping to bite it from his hand. "Good boy." Bailey then snatched the meat from him, sitting back down and awaiting more once he was done.

"Okay. Lay down," Alex said, and his pet listened, going to his chest and front paws. "Good boy. Can you speak for me?" A succession of barks followed the command and Bailey had the rest of the treat while Alex rubbed his ears. "Atta boy."

As he knelt to continue petting him, he began to wonder how Bailey would react to seeing him as a gigantic wolf. He'd been noticeably worried several times before, but would that eventually mean he would run and hide or try and fight him? The longer the idea of going feral and slaughtering his dog lingered in his head, the tighter Alex's throat got, to the point where he had to start massaging it.

Ugh. Better keep him outside tomorrow. If he can't get inside, he should be fine. Although he wanted to believe that, the hand-like paws and opposable thumbs the werewolf had used to pin him down, wrench his arms away and snag him as he'd tried to flee left doubts about it. That and if he went feral and wanted out of the house, there wasn't much to stop him.

As tears surfaced in his eyes, Bailey started whining as if he knew something was wrong. Alex looked into his eyes and coaxed him over before wrapping his arms around his furry neck. "You'll be fine, boy. No matter what happens to me." Bailey was quick to shuffle from his grip after that, but then closed in and licked his face. "Heh, thanks boy. I needed that."

Once Alex's sadness passed, the idea of going back outside to keep skating had lost to staying inside for a while; an old fantasy novel held his attention until he fired up his XBOX, resuming the game he'd been playing before his folks left.

His pulse picked up as he later approached what he thought was a powerful enemy, and lined up his chosen rifle's scope for a headshot. The shot he made took less than half the avatar's health, the sounds of suddenly alerted creatures around him making him grip the controller harder.

Hearing what he thought were his fingernails scrapping the hard plastic, he switched to a machine gun and unloaded its belt of rounds at the coming swarm of mutant geckos. Less than three went down before his character went with them.

Gripping his controller again, he again heard the scrapping again but his fingers now felt numb. Before he could think too long about what was causing the numbness, the taste of something slick and warm, with an aftertaste of iron, grabbed his attention. When his tongue ran down his teeth, to his canines, he nearly froze stiff. The tooth was longer and sharper than before. Fang-like.

"Shit." Alex dropped the controller and reached for his mouth, only to be hit by another shock when he saw his hands: Bone white claws were sprouting from under his fingernails.

His heart rate shot up at the sight. What the hell? The full moon's tomorrow.

Swearing repeatedly, his breathing going ragged, Alex tried to maintain composure but was trembling too much to think straight. He paced around his room, unable to look away from the horror show his hands were turning into.

The muscles throughout them were thickening by the second, the tips of his fingers reshaping for the still forming claws. Patches of skin on his palms and fingers ballooned and thickened, the pigmentation of those spots darkening in turn. Torn between fear and sadness, Alex held his hands still as best he could, to no avail.

It was the sound of Bailey's whimpering that at last ripped his attention away; his dog was shirking back towards his bedside bookshelf. How much longer do I have?

"Bailey. You're going outside. Now." As Alex closed the gap, Bailey retreated further, his tail tucking and ears dropping. "Bailey, I said..." Alex's speech was cut off as the muscles and organs in his chest constrained. He let out a painful groan, almost a growl. Bailey backed up again until he was pressed against the wall and his bookshelf.

With his hands over his chest, Alex could feel his muscles shifting and tightening with every breath. The same sensation moved out to his arms and legs. To him, it felt like someone was digging under his skin and moving his muscles around. As he fought the sickness rising in his stomach from that feeling, one paw came close to his mouth in case his stomach started to empty.

As his clothing became tighter, Alex switched his priorities to remove everything from his waist down; his tee only came off with effort bordering a complete rip-off. With just his necklace left, his claws and pads kept him from working the clip, the thought of what could happen to him if it cut his skin with it keeping him from tearing it off.

With his muscles continuing to move in ways he wasn't telling them to, Alex felt his head get hot and the pressure in his sinuses and brain come back. With the taste of his blood still in his mouth, he made for the restroom, ignoring the mirror with every ounce of restraint he had, and opened the cold faucet.

Seeing his newly formed paws in brighter light as they cupped for the water worsened the trembling around his body; his claws were so pale, for all he knew, they had been made from the bones of his fingertips, and his palms were now dotted with blackened, tense skin, the stubs of white fur strands appearing where his pads had not formed.

When his face came close to his cupped paws, his nose bumped into his hands before he got a drink. It was softer and flush with the front of his face, rounded like a canine nose. Once he got to drinking, it went down nearly as fast as the sink produced it, his still growing fangs making him wary of biting himself, and the visible streams of red leaving him fearful of how much blood he'd lost through his mouth.

As his headache weakened from the continued drinking, Alex began to catch his breath, though his pulse refused to slow down. Feeling his chest with his new massive paw, he barely counted ten beats before he was struck with pain throughout his calves and thighs. The kind of pain in line with a rod being shoved through his muscles. Though he tried not to scream, Alex fell to his knees in front of the marble counter, his resultant breaths coming erratically and his sweat-drenched skin making the stone feel colder.

Once he got back to his feet, his heart still beating hard and fast, Alex returned to his room, finding Bailey inching towards the door, his ears still folded back; his pet whined and backed away the second he saw him, into the same frightened pose.

Alex got out only half of Bailey's name before he stopped talking. His voice had deepened considerably, and what little speech he'd heard was underlined with a rumbling. Something almost growl-like.

With another glance at his pet, Alex gave up on trying to coax him, hoping instead that he wouldn't pass out and wake up to find Bailey's flesh in his mouth.

As he felt his ears start to move up the side of his head, their shapes and size changing all the while, a jolt ran down the length of his spine to his tailbone. Alex reached back, feeling the bone pop out and a column of flesh grow past his fingers. When the jolt ran back up his spine, an itching akin to ants crawling out of, and across, his skin was right behind it, starting from his spine and going outwards, around his chest and hips, down his arms and legs and up his neck.

While he rubbed what part of him itched the most with his massive paws, unable to feel the emerging fur, he watched the growth of the strands spread outwards, down his limbs, towards his paws and feet, white, grey and brown making up their colors.

His breathing eased as the itching lessened, but along with the pace of his heartbeat, the growl-laced breaths he took, and the sounds from his XBOX and TV, his new ears were catching something else. Unsure of what, he turned his electronics off, and when it was near silent in the room, he recognized it: Bones cracking and popping.

The tiny movements in his face and jaw were the first he noticed, and tears ran from his eyes as his uncertainty and fear rooted him to the spot.

When he did move again, Alex remembered the look of the werewolf's legs too late.

The bones in his feet gave after one step with a loud set of crunching cracks, forcing him to his knees after he caught himself with the foot of his bed. Hot, crushing pain radiated out from his feet, running up his legs to his head. An unhindered yell of shock, a roaring growl, escaped as his breathing became rough again. The memory of his broken leg from years ago came back as his eyes clamped shut, a paw covering his face.

As his loud, painful growls kept sounding, Alex let himself down onto his back. How cold, frightened and alone he felt as he laid there spiked, the thought of his parents seeing him like this making it worse. He soon pulled his injured limbs closer, fearing he'd crippled them. The lack of warmth from running blood on his skin didn't help ease that fear.

Now worried he was at risk of another broken bone shock, Alex tried to focus on the werewolf and what he knew of canine skeletal structures. The metatarsals in his feet, the sternum and ribs in his chest, and his skull and jaw. All of those canine bones were different from human shapes. With his metatarsals already broken, but his skull and jaw growing numb, he assumed one of them would change first and braced himself.

He lost track of how long it took for the first part of his skeleton to take a new shape, but he felt it first in his feet, his claws growing out first before the rest shaped into a set of hind paws and pads. Though the hot, stinging feeling of the muscles around his recently broken bones wasn't as intense as he'd feared, the sensation of his flesh being stretched by a force he couldn't see ran up his spine, making his skin crawl under his fur.

His sternum and ribs came next, with his ribs, in pairs, snapping free of his sternum and pushing outward behind his muscles, his chest cavity swelling in turn. Nausea rushed his head as the flicker of thoughts about what was happening to him surfaced, his sudden fear of breathing too much for fear of further injury being tested with each second. Only when he no longer felt his ribs moving did he attempt to take a full breath.

With his eyes still closed, Alex let them open a little. The pooled tears watered his vision and his only attempt to move an arm went nowhere, the whole of it feeling twice as heavy, if not more so, than he knew it should've been.

He hadn't blacked out yet, but he feared the moment was close.

As the once subtle popping sounds from his skull and jaw bones got louder, Alex opened his mouth. Seconds later, with a final pair of snaps, he felt his jaw go slack. What followed was both that bone and the front of his skull pushing outwards and shaping into a longer muzzle; as his jawlines reformed to match, his tongue lengthened and his fangs and teeth gained more mass.

Though he felt every movement and change, Alex was too wracked to do anything but moan, try to ignore how animalistic his moaning sounded, notice the blood he could once again taste around his fangs, and hope that this would be the last thing he'd have to suffer through. As much as he'd gone through already, he had to be approaching some kind of end.

And it wasn't long before he felt his face stop reshaping. A few final snaps of bones resetting followed and everything was quiet again. As his muzzle closed and he got in a swallow, the damp with sweat feeling of his skin and undercoat stood out as sharply as the head to paw soreness around his body and joints, and how much heavier his limbs felt.

But as he kept breathing, it became clear he'd made it. No more itching, no more breaking bones, no more puppeted muscles, no more constant, battering pain.

With a lick of his lips with his now longer tongue, Alex took a few breaths through his nose. He smelled Bailey along with some new scents from the carpet, but when he opened his eyes and turned his head up, he couldn't see him. He had to still be cowering near his bookshelf, but thinking about his pet watching his transformation made his heart clench. He didn't want Bailey to see it any more than anyone else he cared for, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

As his head relaxed, and his eyes closed again, Alex heard the links in his necklace jingle against the floor and each other. Though he couldn't see it with his new muzzle blocking his view, he could feel it around the fur of his neck. It hadn't snapped off, despite how much thicker his neck felt.

The sound of Bailey's footfalls on his carpet sometime later got him to reopen his eyes; his dog offered only a glance at him as he left the room, but his fully tucked tail and lowered head and ears said it all. I'm sorry, boy. You didn't deserve that.

Alex continued to lie on his bedroom floor for a while longer, a smile to himself eventually coming on. He was still in control, even this long after the transformation was over. Breathing a great sigh of relief and feeling more upbeat, he soon moved to get off his back and pick himself up, stopping briefly when he saw the massive hand-like paws he now had. His fingers felt a bit shorter, as if to make up for the length of his claws, but his thumbs had remained opposable.

As he moved onto his paws and knees, the wobbliness left over from the shock of the shift, his breaking bones, and how much heavier his body had become, had him spread his limbs out to help him stabilize. When he at last did, he reached for the top of his bedframe and pulled himself up. Despite his muzzle blocking most of his lower view, as he found his footing, he noticed the most dramatic changes immediately.

He wasn't standing as tall as he felt he could, but he'd gained at least a foot of height versus his human form. His steps were heavier than his human form, with all his weight concentrated in his hind paws versus his feet and ankles. The lack of feeling from his big toes, as though the other eight had taken over for them, also got his attention. _Did they turn into dew claws?_He didn't want to look to find out.

As the AC turned on, the cold air from the vent in his room blew over his new pelt, ruffling every strand down to the finest ones and relieving his trapped body heat. His sore jaw was then cupped in one paw, his new teeth and fangs closing neatly around each other as he closed his muzzle; the muscles he could feel working and holding it as it opened again, and the thought of what he could do with such a muzzle, made him shudder.

When Alex at last checked the time on his desk clock, the sight of three fifty-six shot a bit of panic into his head. With no idea how long the shift had taken, the question of why it had happened now instead of Monday stuck in his mind. He'd not been doing anything out of the ordinary. How much noise he'd made when his bones broke left him somewhat thankful that he'd left all the windows closed, but then his thoughts returned to his parents. If they hadn't left when they did...and what if his self-control was only temporary?

Shaking his head at that thought, Alex decided to try once more to get Bailey outside; his first real steps with his legs in their new canine shape were wobblier than he expected, forcing him to use his furniture, the walls and his doorframe for support as he headed for the living room.

As he emerged from the hall to find the bay window's curtains open, Alex swore to himself and dropped back to all fours, spotting the top of Bailey's pelt before he did; he'd taken to laying down near the couch. Once the windows were blocked, he turned around and approached his pet.

Bailey went back to his feet as he came close, lowering his body and ears and tucking his tail as he had before, but also curling his lips back from his teeth and fangs. Alex froze for a moment when the first of Bailey's growls sounded, lifting and holding out a paw for him when he felt he could.

The growling deepened to a rumbling snarl as it came close and Alex withdrew his paw, his heart clenching at the sound, along with his throat.

When Bailey refused to stop snarling, at a loss for how to calm him down, much less get him to go anywhere, Alex took a step back; three of them put an end to the noise, though Bailey's defensive posture didn't relax.

Chapter 10 - What Does It Mean...

Sunday, September 11th, 2011

Moon Phase - Waxing Gibbous

With silence returned to the room, the sudden growling of his stomach pulled Alex's attention away from Bailey. As he reached for his abdomen, the rumbling persisted for nearly five seconds, the movement radiating into his chest muscles.

The snack cabinet was his first stop after that, the scents of everything inside prompting a lick of his lips. The first thing he grabbed, a wrapped granola bar, proved a hassle to open with his pads, forcing his claws into use. The scents the wrapper had contained rushed his nose once it was punctured, but after his first bite, the piece fell out of his mouth. He tried again and eased the piece back towards his molars with his tongue. Too far back, and he coughed it back out.

After a moment to consider how Bailey would eat his food, Alex tilted his head and took another bite. The piece settled into what remained of his cheek and he ground it down, finally swallowing it with a lick of his teeth. Three bars later, his stomach was no longer growling, though his hunger was still going strong. Thinking some water would help, he went for a glass and filled it from the fridge dispenser. As awkward as getting a glass of water as a werewolf felt, he quickly found that not only was his first choice of glass too small for his new muzzle, as the rim of it kept bumping into his nose and fangs, but that trying to drink like a human was a prelude to the liquid going up his nose, dribbling out of his muzzle and splashing over his pelt.

Stopping to wipe himself off, Alex noticed Bailey's half-filled water bowl on the floor behind him; a chill ran through his nerves as he pictured lapping at his choice of drink. _Is that how I have to drink like this?_Seeing no other way, he refilled his glass to the brim and held his muzzle close, letting his tongue slide from between his jaws. His first lap with as good a cup as he could make with his new tongue did little but splash water outside the glass and over his paws, his second and third attempt ending the same way, each one building the feeling that he was wasting his time.

With an open sigh, which sounded close to a rumbling growl, Alex set the glass aside to think. Something had to be able to bridge the muzzle he had.

When straws came to mind, he searched out a box in the pantry and placed one between his front teeth. Feeling air blow into his mouth as he tried to drink, he repositioned the straw to one side of his jawline and tried to seal his lips. The water came in a steady stream once he managed it, prompting him to add two more to increase the flow.

After two glasses, the fridge was his next stop, his fur keeping the cold air off of his body effortlessly. The leftovers of the last few days were what he found first and pulled out, but what was in the meat drawer almost made him salivate. Two packages each of hamburger patties and hot dogs.

Ripping the plastic from the first package of patties, he almost took a bite before he stopped himself. He couldn't eat this stuff cold and raw. Or could he? Deciding not to tempt it, he set one on a plate and in the microwave on its highest setting for three minutes, hoping that would get the slab warmed up enough. That three minutes without food made his stomach start growling again, but it turned out to be too short a time; the core of the patty was still ice cold.

Tearing the slab into eighths before deciding on breaking them into even smaller chunks, Alex tried again with four minutes. This time it was enough and he took the first piece in his paws, trying not to flinch at how hot it was, or wrinkle his nose at how undercooked and laced with sodium the meat smelled. After two of them, the hot dogs were zapped in clusters of three, each one eaten in less than a minute until only half of the second package was left untouched.

The chunk of lasagna that followed gave the meat and fillers enough time to settle and relax his hunger, but with no idea how long it all would last, Alex went for some soda to finish his impromptu meal, the carbonation filling what space was left in his stomach.

As he put up what he'd not eaten, he was left wondering what to do next; it was still bright outside, though the time had jumped to a quarter to five. How sore and tired he was quickly made a nap look like the best plan. When the thought of going feral in his sleep surfaced, the fact that it hadn't happened because of the shift, or the passage of time, helped reign in his unease.

Alex reached the doorframe of his bedroom to find Bailey sniffing at the carpet, his heavy steps drawing his dog's attention towards him. He lowered himself to all fours after his pet's stare held for a few seconds and moved closer to offer a paw again. This time, Bailey pulled his lips back and growled, but didn't shirk back, fold his ears or tuck his tail.

_Better not risk it._After his paw was withdrawn, Alex climbed into bed and laid back with an arm over his chest. His thoughts stayed occupied with questions until sleep took over.

* * *

When he woke, two hours had gone by and the soreness around his body had greatly diminished. The questions he'd been asking himself before he dozed off came back to mind within a minute, the first being how the shift had been triggered in the first place. He hadn't been doing anything strenuous or abnormal. Was it because he'd been bitten outside of the full moon? Was the day prior to the full moon, and the time the shift had started, what he had to be ready for from now on?

And why was he still sentient? Was it a trait all werewolves shared? Something he was privileged with? If so, what was granting him that? Remembering his necklace, Alex held it in his paw, his thumb pad rubbing the bullet. As insignificant as it felt at first, he couldn't recall any silver jewelry on the werewolf the night he was bitten. Even if it was in control at the end, it still behaved like a monster.

_Is this thing keeping me sane?_He gripped it at that thought. It hadn't taken much force to break his necklace hook in the past.

With no idea how long he would stay the way he was, once he was out of bed, Alex walked the house, checking for curtains and blinds he could close and thinking about what he could do to pass the time. He had his desktop and his XBOX, but the keyboard, mouse and controller all felt too small for his paws. With a peering outside through the glass top of the front door, the idea of sneaking out once it was late and dark enough came to mind.

Recalling his father saying the precinct was on the lookout for loose, and large, canines, the vacant, tree-filled lot across the street held his attention the longest. That lot's not far...streetlight's still busted too. After a check of the views from the kitchen window and the bay window, seeing few hints of activity beyond the odd car going past or pulling into driveways, and the lone person out walking, Alex headed for the guest room.

The window in the room was little more than a sliding pane of glass, but as he sized it up to the muscle mass and height he'd gained, he figured on at least a half opening to let himself out. How much noise it made when being opened in the past was on his mind briefly, the nearby outdoor air conditioning unit giving him an idea how he could mask the noise if the need arose.

For the next half hour leading up to seven-thirty, Alex did what he could to keep from pacing the house, his checks of the streets outside continuing to show few cars driving down them and even fewer people walking them. After hearing no one nearby at the guest room window, his claws and pads did little more than slide along the glass as he tried to slide it open. A few tries at the metal rim got the glass to inch over enough to where he could see his digits doing the rest of the work.

As he came close to the other side, the scents he'd let in with the cold evening air went up his nose. Before he'd drawn a full breath, the wildly contrasting wave of scents, and the firing of his brain and olfactory senses to track the multitudes of them, had left his head swirling. He stopped breathing and threw a paw over his nose in response, but the scents that had gotten past, as he closed his eyes and squeezed his forehead, didn't let his brain relax.

It processed four, then eleven, then nineteen, then twenty-eight, then forty-one and more that he recognized; for every one of them, at least two went unrecognized or lost to the rest. The ones that contrasted greatest to the rest stood out most, while the more uniform ones left him wondering how many more he hadn't picked up or what the source had been.

But what truly sent a shiver down Alex's spine after he readjusted were the scents that, before he lost them, made an example of how sensitive his werewolf nose was. The scents of refined sugar were one; the refinery that he knew they came from was over a mile south of his house.

After backpedaling from the window, and nearly smacking his shoulder on the guestroom doorframe, he went for his denim jacket as he huffed to clear his nose, only to be stopped by the sound of his phone ringing. With it out of his jeans pocket and in his paws, the display of "Dad" left him wondering why his father was calling him.

His pulse rose, and a chill hit him, after a second to think. Had the celebration been called off? Were his parents coming back for something, or coming home early? First Colony was barely a fifteen-minute drive, if they were still there.

When the call tone stopped, the voicemail tone that followed it didn't erase his fears. After tapping at the screen with his claws, then his pads, with neither letting him bring up the security screen, he tossed his phone onto his bed and rushed for the guest room window. The mess of outside scents flooded his nostrils again before he blocked his nose and pulled the window open.

The new shape of his legs made bringing them up over the windowsill a challenge, forcing a bracing of his back against the edge of the window and further opening of the glass pane. He was halfway out when the air conditioning turned on, the whirring of the steel fan blades masking his drop from the window onto the dirt, and the first of his tugs at the window to close it.

On the last few inches, he hesitated. Would his parents lock the window? They usually didn't, and even if they did, he knew where the spare key to the front door was, but if he walked in on them like this...

Alex tried to forget that thought, to no avail. As easy as it would be to wait for his folks to fall asleep, they'd never recognize him like this. He rubbed the bullet on his necklace again, feeling how much slack he had in the chain. Can't risk it...shit, fifteen minutes. Where can I hide?

After dropping to all fours, Alex went for the garage door first. Locked, and the key was inside. Hiding by the air conditioning unit was his next thought, but the possibility of his parents letting Bailey outside, where he could easily find and possibly corner him was quick to cast doubt on that idea, and the garage. Moving towards the side gate, Alex looked out past the gaps in the wood, towards the wooded lot across the street. His nightvision, and the full moon above, made most of what he saw deceptively bright, but his nose and his view through the wood planks for a bit gave him a good sense of being alone.

With his mother's sedan parked outside the garage and close to the grass, Alex made for the fence behind the garage. The edge of the lawn on the other side was lined with bushes, and the driveway wasn't far. A quick climb over it, and a minute to assess his next move, and he'd be far enough from the house for now.

With the top of the fence almost level with his eyes, a climb over seemed easy enough, but the shape of his legs once again worked against him and his attempts at finding a foothold. Wondering if he could jump it, Alex backed up a few steps and crouched, one front paw reaching the ground as his knees bent. After one step forward, the jump he attempted put his paws and shoulders in the right spot to throw himself over, but as his legs cleared the fence, he realized he'd overshot it and tumbled over, landing on his back on the other side. The thump forced the air from his lungs and rattled his ribs and nerves.

Once back on all fours, Alex sniffed the air again. The scents in the grass had been disturbed by his landing but otherwise there weren't any standout, risk-attached scents, and he heard no one walking around. _Perfect._After a stop near his mother's sedan, he made his move towards the porch, the sound of a car coming from his right getting him to hurry.

As he made it to the bushes lining the porch, he huddled down, ready to jump behind them as soon as the car came close enough. His pulse slowly climbed as it came closer, and the first signs of headlight reach became visible. What caused it to suddenly jump, and ice to touch his veins, was the sound of a police radio beep.

_Oh, crap. If he sees me..._Now watching for increases of light through the leaves, the fender grill was the first to appear from behind them, then the tires. Alex shuffled sideways before he saw any hint of the officer inside, hoping, as he dropped flat to the pebbled texture of the porch, that they hadn't seen him.

When the vehicle stopped, Alex held his breath and fought the urge to cover his head.

A second passed.

No doors opened. Just more beeps.

With the glance he soon managed at what was ahead of him, the wooded area was lit up by what he was certain was a searchlight. The beam swept to the right, then the left, and finally turned off, the cruiser moving again afterward. The next sweep of the searchlight beam went over the bush he was hidden behind, a handful of light streams getting past and into his eyes before the cruiser drove away.

Shivering from the close call, Alex laid where he was for a minute, fingering his necklace once again. Maybe they'll understand... He sighed and covered his face when his hope about that gave out.

After getting back to all fours, and feeling reasonably certain he could get to the lot without being seen, he went for it, trying to maintain more than a trot towards the street. Both his legs pushing forward at once seemed to help, and once past the sidewalk, he made for the closest tree and circled it, peeking back towards his house. Though it wasn't far away, he already felt like he was leaving the place far behind.

Finding a spot further back to lie down again, Alex watched for any sign of his parents. His heart was still beating rapidly, encouraging slow breaths through his mouth. The odd new scents leaking between his digits slowly joined the many he'd already processed, with one that he was certain belonged to decaying tissue getting him to glance around. What is that?

Smelling it best on his right side, he inched that direction, the direction of the breeze continuing to move him towards the source. With a few glances up and around, Alex noticed an elevated patch of dirt coming up. Wondering if it was concealing the source of the scent, how weak it became after he moved his muzzle upwind of it was enough to tell him it likely was.

Seeing no obvious openings or gaps in the mound, he picked at it with his claws, eventually unearthing signs of a buried white mouse, the disturbing and popping of the pocket of decay making his paw cover his nose again.

For a moment after, Alex did little but stare at what he'd just found. This was how sensitive his olfactory sense was? If it was this precise, what else could he find with it?

He then remembered the werewolf that attacked him. Was it still in his hometown somewhere, or had it fled after biting him? If it was still here, where was it roaming, or hiding? The area near the city skatepark was his first thought, but the idea of walking that far to check for scent traces felt like too great a risk. He'd been lucky just now with the officer and didn't want to risk that again so soon.

* * *

As the minutes went by, Alex continued to roam the wooded area, looking back towards his house every so often. With no way to track the time, he breathed an easy sigh after what felt like thirty minutes went by with no sign of his parents.

Now what?_When his thoughts returned to the other werewolf, where the past killings happened followed suit. Kempner's stable, the skatepark... _Is it using the creeks to move around? Remembering the creek two streets from his house, Alex knew it ran south all the way to the basin near the skatepark. And his high school was a straight shot north from there, with less dense housing and more open fields along the way.

After a glance down both streets, despite seeing nothing, his legs grew heavy again. Two streets. The creek wasn't far. He hadn't seen any police since the last encounter, but the moon was giving off a lot of light and one wrong move or curious pedestrian and he'd be exposed. It was then that he wondered why he was seeing fewer people outside this late than usual. Or was he?

Was Dad calling me about a crime around here? That thought gave him some hope that he could make it to the creek without being spotted. If he was careful. He looked at his paws again, noting how much his white and grey fur contrasted the dark green of the grass. If I stay low...maybe...

Alex moved back towards the roads, watching for any headlights or people. A few more minutes passed with just one car pulling into a driveway halfway down the road going south; the eastbound road showed no activity.

With his first eastward step away from the tree line, his skin tightened and his body shrunk down.

Every few steps, he glanced up to check the road, weaving from trees to bushes to behind cars to the closest shadowy patches in his path as he went, speeding up as best he could when there was a massive gap between spots he could duck into. The extended walk on all fours helped him find the best method of moving his new legs, the scents near the ground helping him quell the thought of getting back to his hind paws and running like he felt he could.

As the four-way end of the street drew closer, Alex was flushed with relief. One more street. Doing good so far. He took a few more steps, past the driveway of the last house on the corner, only to see something bright appear from behind a fence on the left side of the road. The white shine was all the hint he needed it was a headlight, and his pace quickened, his body dropping and ceasing to move once behind a nearby holly bush.

As the headlight came closer, the rumbling of the engine it was attached to sounded in line with that of a truck. Only after he heard it turn east, and drive down the street directly ahead of him, did Alex pick himself up. He kept watch of the intersection for a bit, and after hearing no more cars coming, made for the creek.

Another two streetlamps beamed light down on the sidewalks, getting him to start running again. He didn't stop after he passed them. The quicker he was out of sight, the better.

Within a few yards of the creek, the raw scent of stagnant water rushed his nostrils, making him slow down and cover his nose again before he slipped over the edge and down the creek's bank enough to duck under the bridge. After finding his upright footing on the grassy incline, he began his trek south, reaching the neighborhood park after several minutes.

Alex dropped back to all fours as he climbed the bank and peeked over the top. With a few seconds glance, he spotted two people and one dog, a Husky by the build and fur color, walking the trails among the trees. The sight of the dog made him step back and move further down into the creek; he was upwind of it, and along with having no idea how hostile it would act at the first hint of him versus Bailey and Ginger, he still had a long walk ahead.

* * *

As he saw the creek start to give way to a deeper mouth, Alex climbed out the left side and perched near the corner of a fence. The bridge leading over the deeper mouth of the creek was brightly lit by the moon, along with the soccer, tennis and baseball fields of his middle school on the other side. Despite seeing no one around, as he made for and crossed the moonlit bridge, the nagging feeling of being watched ran over him.

Once on the other side, with his nose down and sweeping over the grass and concrete, he made a beeline for the edge of the tennis court, hoping he wouldn't find a trace of the were that bit him. For the length of the trek, he found no sign of it and about-faced, this time heading towards the edge of the baseball field he'd passed. Repeating the process around the north side of the field, this time with a zig-zag just in case it had slipped into the creek somewhere along the way, he reached the second field with the same results.

If it makes a habit of coming around here, or this direction... Alex moved on towards the second field, circling its north side as with the last one. Halfway around the length, a pair of scents in the grass near the fence grabbed his attention. Even before he'd finished sweeping his nose over the spot, the scents had reminded him of his attacker's skin and pelt.

His head darted side to side in response. Where had it gone from here? He leapt the fence nearby and searched the grass, only to find no trace. It had to have circled the field.

The trail he found was a series of spaced spots in the grass that lead him behind the third baseball field and down the sidewalk between it and the fourth one bordering the skatepark. The bright lights near the street ahead, and the few cars he could see, kept him from going too far forward on the concrete. On his way back, now with the sounds of steel grinding steel reaching his ears, he detoured inside the fourth field, finding more evidence of his attacker in the grass and dirt, until he found a large splotch of its scent that led nowhere else. As though it had sat around and then left over the same trail as before.

Breathing an uneasy sigh, Alex wondered how many minutes, or seconds, he'd missed it by. He moved back towards the creek, and then looked up and down its length. With no sign of a moving black mass, he stepped back. Had he missed this thing by even more time? By an hour or more?

With nothing else to do, he went back inside the baseball field closest to the park, laying on his chest in what he thought was the darkest spot to watch the three skaters in the park. For a while, it was just them riding around, until one of them bailed during a transition into a Frontside Tailslide. Alex winced as they landed, but made and pumped a fist when the guy who went next pulled off a Frontside Nose Grind.

With an urge to skate that he couldn't fulfill building by the minute, he kept watching until he saw a pair of headlights coming down the access road towards the park. Thinking it was another skater coming, as the headlights turned away from facing his direction, he made out the police lights on the hood; an eastbound breeze brought with it a new scent of fur.

Alex made for the open gate as soon as he realized, dropping low and stopping only when he heard the cruiser door open. The question of why the police were showing up was answered as soon as the lone officer passed the turnstile. "Hey, guys. This park is under curfew. You need to leave."

Was that what Dad was trying to tell me?

When one of the skaters questioned the curfew, the response the officer gave made Alex's head run wild with questions. "Because we've had several animal attacks around this area over the last month."

Several? How? Angela was the only one before me, and that calf was just one kill. Alex swallowed hard. He'd been keeping an eye on the news since the day Angela was attacked, but now was unable to shake the feeling he'd overlooked something.

"You haven't seen any odd animals around here, have you?" asked the officer, making Alex grumble about the completely wrong use of 'odd.'

"No. Nothing's come around here."

"I see. Even so, you boys need to head home."

With crickets chirping around him, Alex stayed still until he heard the door of the cruiser once again open and close, making his move towards the creek bank as fast as he could go after that. The news of the park under curfew, and the thought of more places like it under the same rules, sat in his thoughts until he was halfway home. If he hadn't come that Friday night...but he had and he was stuck with it.

Ignoring the tightening of his throat, he continued past the park, towards where he'd entered the creek. This was enough exploration for one night. He'd seen pretty much everything he wanted to and hunger pangs were coming on.

* * *

He returned home at nine-forty according to the first clock he saw in the kitchen. The trek had taken more time than he'd anticipated but it had been somewhat rewarding. With a glass of water to go with the hot dog he'd fixed, he soon spotted Bailey walking around. Although he showed no signs of fear, he was roaming and sniffing, as though he was looking for something. Does he really not recognize me like this? Sighing quietly, Alex took his time with his snack and drink. He was sure he could, somehow.

Once he'd finished, he tracked his pet back to his room, finding him sleeping on his dog bed. He again approached slowly, holding his body very low and making an effort to not show any teeth or make any sounds. Bailey's head pulled up as he came closer and a single woof came from him.

Hey, boy. Relax. It's okay._Alex held his paw out and inched it closer, watching Bailey's reactions. He got within a foot of his pet before he started sniffing at something. Although certain it was the hot dog scents in his fur, Alex was glad to see his dog was calm this time. When Bailey stopped sniffing, he pulled his paw back, thinking that would be enough to show him he wasn't trying to harm him. _Good boy.

Seeing his phone on his bed as he stood back up, Alex picked it up and held it for a minute. I'll call them in the morning after I change back. After setting it aside, he began a walk of the house, double checking the windows and doors to be sure they were locked. Returning to his room when he felt satisfied, he laid back in bed and drifted off to sleep, hoping he would wake up to see his human skin again.