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Scene #42
All my life there's been the other...I like to call her my puppy. Mind you I call most canines I see puppy. Puppy is something happy, pleasant. It sounds so much nicer than dog, wolf, or growling furball. The only problem is that my 170-pound puppy could rip your throat out in the blink of an eye. But don't worry, she's house trained.
My name is Addie and I'm a werewolf.
I used to shift regularly, but I stopped completely as a teen. It was more difficult to be in control of the wolf as I got older. You know how puberty is, your body changes...hormones, pheromones, tough enough without adding my puppy's needs into the mix.
The change peeks out every now and then, like when I'm extremely emotional or if I don't eat enough meat during the week. When I get really mad my normally brown eyes bleed to the wolf's blue. I'd have to say the most embarrassing time was during my first time at sex. After paying the incurred bills (new bedroom furniture and lots of bandages) I decided sex, at least with a human...isn't a good idea.
Before I go any further let me dispel and confirm a few things about myself.
#1: No moon needed, I can shift at will. This shift is instant and painless, nothing like the American Werewolf in Paris. It sounds corny, but I have no other word to describe it but magic. I look a normal wolf, just a several pounds larger.
#2: Silver is painful, but only kills in high doses.
#3: I have heightened senses. Which can be a downer on occasions ripe with body odor.
#4: Super speed, strength, and longevity. I have quick reflexes and can lift a full keg of beer by myself. Werewolves also live longer than humans. It works in reverse dog years. My puppy ages one year for every seven human years. Physical development slows during our third wolf year. So I'm still looking barely legal even though I'm 25.
In case you're curious, yes, there are others like me out there. But my parents are not. I'm adopted. My folks are good people, caring and sweet. They found out about my puppy side shortly after the adoption. I had my first shift at 2 during potty training. Needless to say things got messy.
When I began controlling and shifting regularly we tried to find a pack. Werewolf communities don't want to be found, so it took a lot of searching in and out of my wolf form. After a few years and long road trips we found a pack I fit in well with outside of Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. The pack welcomed me and began giving me lessons on the beast within.
I learned about honing my senses, pack etiquette, how to conceal what I am, you know, survival stuff. Most of my childhood summers were spent out there. I was close with the pack until high school, when I realize there are some parts of pack life I just can't do.
Though most of my time is spent around humans, the majority of werewolves avoid them. Werewolves live in sparse communities where they don't have to hide what they are. In many cases they are more wolf than human. Things like death and sex have are more primitive for werewolves than human society.
So packs stay rural, plus there's more room to roam. This is why I now live in Baltimore and not Podunk, USA. So the bigger the city, the lesser the wolves, and frankly after my last experience in Wyoming I'm definitely not interested in being apart of any pack.
By most standards I'm a pretty lame werewolf, one who lives alone and doesn't shift. But after years of struggling with who I am, I've finally started to get my life in order. I finally have full control over my puppy within.
Life's pretty simple and thankfully uneventful, at least it was until that mini-skirt wearing bitch walked into my bar tonight ordering a Black Wolf.
Black Wolf 1/2 oz. Chartreuse 1/2 oz. Sambuca Couple drops of Tabasco
Nasty shot, nasty bitch. Kelley, a slim 6 foot blond bombshell, is a beta of the Wyoming pack. Don't let her baby blues and pouty lips fool you, she defines the word bitch, in every sense. She wears stilettos and skimpy clothes for every occasion. I hate her.
Since the moment I met her we haven't gotten along. She's always viewed me as a lesser wolf because I'm not pack. She also often ridicules my human form. Most werewolves are perfect physical specimens. Running around all the time is a good way to stay in shape. So my short and curvy stature was always proof to her I didn't belong.
"Sorry," I smiled, "No dogs allowed. You'll have to get your shot elsewhere."
"Funny coming from a mutt like you," she sneered as she set her money on the bar.
"At least I'm house trained. Don't piss on anything." I quickly fixed her shot and slammed in down in front of her. "Tell me why you're here, then get out."
"Ah! So you didn't hear?"
"Hear what? You're finally getting neutered?" I asked with a smile. Kelley's always been really proactive with pack relations.
She slowly sipped her shot."Ha ha, but no. The really question is have you?" Her mouth turned up into an evil grin as she leaned towards me, "Cuz, Mac just became dom alpha, and he needs some pups." Mac, or as I like to call him Mr. Asshat, was one of my best friends when I tried to make it in the pack. He also is the reason I left. When I turned 14 he almost raped me, putting an end to that friendship and my life with the pack.
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