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Okay, so this is the start of a new series that I plan on working on for a while (and hopefully, will eventually finish). It's about a werewolf mercenary on a distant world who travels all over the planet with his teammates completing dozens of missions to finally put an end to all the war and destruction around him. But in the process he begins to wonder if it's all really worth it, and tries not to lose his sanity.

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Hellhounds: What We Do

It was all for the greater good. That's what they told us. No matter how many missions we were sent on, no matter how many furries around me were tortured for no reason, killed for no reason, it was all for the greater good. At least, that's what they tell us. But it's all part of the military after all, just follow orders, do whatever your superiors tell you without question. Asking questions is how you "disappear" or how you mysteriously end up getting shot in the back of the head the next day. The best thing to do was to just shut up, and follow orders. And that's exactly what we did. My name is Donovan Skalesh. I am a werewolf. I and all the furries and scalies around me are all located on a planet called Lupus. It's a lot like Earth, except the planet isn't occupied with Homo sapiens. We do similar things like all those human beings do; go to shopping malls, spend time with friends, sunbathe, all that shit. At least, that's how it used to be. Now the planet seems to be rife with war, and there are armies from all sorts of factions fighting each other. I haven't seen the entire planet yet, but all the places I have gone to were either barren wastelands or metropolitan areas that were at one point thriving with peaceful furries. The only places that are considered livable are cities that are controlled by the local militia, the ones you go to without spotting at least three soldiers on every city block. There were also parts of the planet considered to be the "slums" of the world, swamps infested with rabid alligators, deserts filled with macro, blood-thirsty gryphons, canyons full of monsters so evil that no one has managed to see one and live to tell what they look like, places like that. Despite everything, I'd rather live here than immigrating over to planet Earth, if the planet is still even intact. The main problem with the planet is that everyone is out for world domination. The dragons, the rats, the jackals-every fuckin' species out there wants total control. Ever since the original ruler of the world was assassinated-a wolf who actually knew how to run the government and did a damn good job at gaining the public's trust-it's been like this. That's probably why I joined the army in the first place, so I could help to make Lupus the way it used to be. But now, I dunno, it just seems like I'm serving another narcissistic asshole who wants total control over the world, and doesn't give a damn about reconstruction.

I joined the army when I was eighteen, went through the hellish and unbearable training just like everyone else, and eventually I was placed in the field. A few years and promotions later, I was assigned to a special mercenary squadron consisting of all Lycans such as myself. Unlike the army, we didn't just ally ourselves with one faction. Rather, we made as many friends and enemies as we could, since it usually paid off in the end, literally. I had been working as a mercenary for over seven years, slowly growing more and more detached from society with all the destruction and slaughter I witnessed. Now...I honestly don't know how the future will turn out, or if this planet will even exist in the next twenty years. But hey, that's what all the superiors want: a warrior who has nothing to lose and doesn't mind being written off as expendable. Everyone said that we were the meanest motherfuckers in the unit, but truth of it was, any Lycan you find in the army was a "mean motherfucker." What separated us from them is that we were smart. We were stealthily when we needed to be. We were capable of coming up with our own plans should the original one go horribly awry. More importantly, we got paid a helluva lot more cash, and went on missions that were of high priority, instead of just running through the sand and shooting everything that shoots back at us. Of course, we occasionally joined the army and marines on certain field ops. missions, but only to aid fellow Lycans in need.

Our team consisted of seven highly trained brown werewolf operatives, myself included. One was Zepher Akren. Like me, Zepher joined the military when he was very young, and after impressing some of the higher-ups with his heroic efforts in battle, they promoted him and placed him inside the mercenary unit. Zepher didn't speak much. He was the quiet one in the group and the second-smartest one as well. Like me, he used standard weapons during combat: a regular M4A1 assault rifle, M9 pistol and combat knife. The brains of the unit were Trent Trockmick, although he wasn't the one who stayed behind closed doors and hacked the enemy's satellites. He was in combat, just like the rest of us. Unfortunately, Trent was sarcastic and narcissistic, and used his intelligence to make the group look stupid. Overall, Trent was a smart-ass; so much of one, that "smart-ass" was the nickname we gave him. But the Lycan was smart, that was the main keyword to his nickname...even if he pissed us off to the point where we wanted to hang him. Third was Denton Lysack, the exact opposite of what Trent was. Denton was the kind of Lycan who would stop and ask, "Hey, what does that command mean again?" or "Um...so...what are we doin'?" I saw that Lycan scalp dozens of enemy combatants without breaking a sweat, but there are times where he asked questions that was so stupid that...well, our colonel eventually found a way to deal with him and the absurd things he did. Then there was Fenrir Stilex, the funny fat guy in the group. Well, he was fat anyway, but definitely not funny, even though he tried to be with very dull jokes. The Lycan weighed over a hundred more pounds than our colonel did, and he could run faster than both Trent and I. Fenrir carried a SPAS-12 shotgun as his sidearm instead of a handgun like most of the group did, and was a fan of going trigger happy when he was surrounded by a swarm of enemy soldiers. He was more brawns than brains, but at least he didn't ask idiotic questions like Denton did. At most, the worst he did was steal my rations when I wasn't looking. The sniper in our group-he carried a Dragunov instead of an M4-was Jakob Nirhart. He spoke more than Zepher did, but I didn't see the werewolf on the battlefield as much. I couldn't tell who the crazy one was: Jakob or Zepher. The things Jakob said would sometimes keep me up at night, but whenever I saw Zepher in action, it seemed like he was focusing more on striking fear into the hearts of his enemies. He'd disembowel soldiers just for the satisfaction of hearing their intestines splatter on the ground, and would sometimes smile as he did so. But the colonel didn't mind his tactics, so long as he didn't use them against us. Lastly was the colonel himself, Riesling Granigan. He was the perfect Lycan to lead our group: tough, smart, abrasive, and very vocal. Riesling expected all of us to do the impossible without hesitation, and denying his orders usually led Riesling to scream and shout until we eventually complied with his wishes. Smart-ass was the only one who seemed to push the colonel to his limits, but the colonel was an extremely buff and masculine dog, so all he had to do was snarl at Smart-ass or snap at him, and he'd back away in fear and shut up. The colonel favored a Bushmaster ACR instead of the M4s the rest of our team used. As I said before, the other soldiers considered us to be a clan of real badasses. After we started to rake in the body count and left a path of destruction behind us, the higher-ups started to call our team the "Hellhounds."

I could babble on about all the hundreds, if not thousands of missions I had been on, but then I'd just be wasting my breath. Instead, I'll skip all that and get around to the missions that were of "dire" importance to our superiors, the missions that changed our viewpoint of the war and what we did for a living. Let's see...it was a dark and stormy night... Okay, fuck that; we were stationed in Dryzar Hills. It was three in the morning. We were all wearing gray and dark green camouflage pants and long-sleeved shirts that helped us blend in with the environment, as well as black boots. Dryzar Hills was a large village consisting of shacks and small sand colored houses. They resembled villages that would probably be seen in Africa or the Middle East. All of us came into the area via skydiving so the enemy wouldn't detect us beforehand. The soldiers were all tigers who wore dark green camouflage uniforms similar to ours. Lucky for us, all of the soldiers in the area were either sleeping or stationed in areas that were easy to slip by without being detected. After trekking along the sand for fifteen minutes, we found the house we were searching for. Our superiors wanted us to find a package stationed deep within the residence. Riesling didn't ask why, and they didn't tell, but we were ordered not to alert anyone in the hills and we had to put suppressors on our weapons, so that told me we were in an area that could antagonize the war. Once we got to the house, we peered through all the windows and waited patiently for most of them to go to sleep. Jakob was stationed in the hills half a mile away, lying on the ground in a prostrate position with the Dragunov in his paws. All of us were becoming impatient, resting against the side of the house and flicking the safety of our guns on and off. Smart-ass seemed to be the one who was most impatient, and stood in front of the door just waiting to kick it down.

"Colonel, you know that-"

"No."

"But if we move in now-"

"No."

"Sir, we could-"

"No." snarled the colonel, looking up at Smart-ass.

Smart-ass sighed exasperatedly and sat down on a boulder next to Zepher.

"How many you count in there? Five?" I asked.

"Six." said Fenrir.

"How many are sleeping?"

"Three."

"Are any of them stationed near the door?" asked Denton.

"That doesn't matter considering they can easily turn around and catch a glimpse of us." said Smart-ass.

"By then they'll have a bullet in their brains-let's just get this over with colonel! We've been sitting for twenty minutes! What if they never go to sleep?"

"They will."

"And what if they don't sir?"

"They will."

"C'mon Denton, I've caught a glimpse of these guys yawning four times in less than three minutes. One of them had to smack himself awake." I said.

I peered into the window again and saw two more soldiers leave the main living quarters of the building. One of them went downstairs into the basement, and the other took a magazine with him as he walked into the bathroom and locked the door. I sighed heavily.

"See? Now there's only one-two if that soldier who went downstairs comes back up."

"And three if that guy gets out the bathroom." said Smart-ass.

"Either way, there are less guards who are awake in the house now, so we can break inside, kill everyone, get the package and call in air support to pick us up." said Fenrir.

"Yeah, or maybe the guy will come back upstairs and the guy will get off the toilet and they'll ambush us. Not to mention what could happen if the other soldiers wake up."

"There is no need to turn everything into a negative Smart-ass!"

"I'm not being negative; I'm just thinking logically, something you should do more of Denton."

"The logical thing to do would be to head inside now while all the soldiers are occupied." I said.

"I agree with Donnie." said Fenrir.

"Yeah, sure, everyone ignore the smart guy."

"You're a smart-ass, Trent, with much emphasis on the word 'ass.'" muttered Denton.

"At least I'm a smart one, unlike you."

"Shut up! Zepher, what do you think?" asked the colonel.

The quiet werewolf blinked as he stared at the door and started to fiddle with his assault rifle.

"We should go in." he muttered.

"Jesus-fuckin'-Christ, we're supposed to listen to the statue now?"

"Smart-ass, you're the only one who seems to oppose the decisions we're making." I said.

"Because all of you are making the wrong fucking ones!"

"Think about it Smart-ass, all we gotta do is bust down the door! If we wait too long-"

"Shut the fuck up!" shouted Riesling, but not too loud so he didn't alert the soldiers inside.

"Christ, stop arguing over the goddamn bone! We're not fucking high school students! We're soldiers, more importantly, we're mercenaries. Professional mercenaries. Professional mercenaries do not sit here bitching back and forth at each other like pups, especially over a door. But since I have no other way of making any of you listen to me, besides wasting my energy beating some sense into you all, we're gonna be "democratic" here and take a vote. All of those who think we should head inside now say 'aye.'"

"Aye." said Fenrir, Denton, Zepher and myself.

"Nay."

"It's four against one Smart-ass!" huffed the colonel.

"Yeah, but, technically, since I'm smarter than all of you, my vote counts for five werewolves, not one. So, technically, you should all listen to me." said Smart-ass, smiling widely.

"...Mkay, how 'bout this: either you join us with taking down the building now, or you can eat your own teeth for dinner after I knock 'em out of your mouth."

Smart-ass chuckled. "Yeah, threatening me will make me cooperate colonel."

"But you're the 'smart one,' remember? That means you know what I'm capable of doing, and that unlike you, I don't bluff. So if you know what's good for you, you'll shut the fuck up and join us on raiding the house."

Smart-ass suddenly frowned and grumbled to himself, knowing that if someone pushed him hard enough, Riesling would knock out all of his teeth with hesitation. Although knowing the colonel, he was bluffing when he said that. If he had been telling the truth then he would've threatened to gouge out the Lycan's eyeballs.

"Fine. Let's do it."

"About time." said Fenrir, stomping over to the door and raising his leg so he could bust the door down.

"Wait a second!" shouted Smart-ass.

Fenrir put his leg down and huffed. "Goddamnit-what?!"

"Just, you know, a suggestion-and don't threaten to knock out my teeth or gouge out my eyes or castrate me or anything-but kicking in the door is not a good option here. Think about it: no matter how many soldiers are sleeping, the second we burst inside they're gonna wake up anyway."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"Easy!"

Smart-ass took out a torsion wrench and hook pick and inserted both of them into the keyhole of the door. Then he started to pick at the lock very carefully.

"You know how to pick locks?" asked Denton.

"Apparently none of you are capable of believing that I really am smart, even if I am a douchebag."

Smart-ass heard a loud click and smiled once he managed to get the door unlocked.

"Now we can go in."

The cocky brown werewolf put his lock picking materials away, grabbed the doorknob, and slowly twisted it before pushing open the door and heading into the house. One of the soldiers was busy overlooking dozens of documents and sitting down near a desk with his back turned. Smart-ass aimed his rifle at the back of the soldier's head and shot him twice. Blood sprayed all over the walls and his head slammed against the table he was sitting on. I quickly rushed over to the bathroom door and fired five rounds through the wooden material. I heard someone groan from the other side, followed by a loud thud, which made me grin.

"What the f-"

The soldier who disappeared into the basement decided to come back up into the living quarters. Guess he wasn't sleep after all. Before he could even take his pistol out of his holster, I took out my knife and threw it at the soldier's throat, and the blade penetrated his Adam's apple. He gagged loudly and placed a paw against his neck and tried to stop the blood flow, but it was all useless. He backed up against the wall and coughed twice, spitting up blood all over the floor. He gagged again and slid down to the floor before he closed his eyes and passed away.

"We're clear, minus the guards sleeping downstairs." I said.

"I'll take care of it," said Zepher, walking downstairs with his knife in his right paw.

I traveled down the stairs with Zepher and took my knife from the deceased soldier's throat before heading back upstairs to the bathroom. I sighed and kicked open the door, where I found the soldier who was using the toilet lying dead on the floor.

"Yeah, we're-"

I heard muffled groans and what sounded like a knife penetrating through flesh downstairs. Zepher didn't waste any time taking out the unconscious soldiers.

"We're clear."

Fenrir relaxed. "Great. Now we can spend time looking for that package."

"If we can find it." muttered Denton.

"C'mon, you guys really think these pussy-cats are smart enough to hide a package from us?" asked Smart-ass.

"How 'bout we stop debating and just look for the damn thing?" I asked.

"See Smart-ass? Unlike you, Donnie has no problem getting right to the point." said the colonel.

Smart-ass was going to give the colonel one of his trademark retorts, but he wanted to finish the mission as much as the rest of us. He merely nodded and started to bash the butt of his gun against the plastered walls. I headed into the bathroom and did the same as well, looking underneath the sink and smashing apart some of the walls to see where the box was. Unfortunately, all I found were spider webs and pipes leading down into the basement. I decided to check the toilet itself next and took off the lid so I could look inside the cistern. It was clear as well.

"You guys find it yet?" I shouted.

"No! The package is nowhere in sight!" shouted Denton.

I growled angrily to myself and slammed the toilet seat down, sitting on the toilet seat lid and looking all around the bathroom. Short of the dead guard there was nothing of value in the bathroom. That's what I thought of initially anyway, but when I looked down at the soldier's body, I noticed something very odd. His blood was spreading all around the tiles and turning them dark red, but there were two tiles that weren't drenched in the crimson. Once the blood reached them both, it seemed as though the blood was dripping through cracks in-between the tiles. I raised an eyebrow and, acting on instinct, bent down and pressed one of my fingers on the tile. It jimmied a little.

"Son of a bitch."

I started to dig at the false tiles and eventually lifted up one of the tiles, which revealed a secret compartment perfect for storing any kind of information or evidence that didn't want to be found. I stuck my paw inside the compartment, and grabbed a hard object covered in brown paper.

"COLONEL! I got it!"

"You sure it's the package?"

I pulled out a brown package covered in twine and a little bit of the dead soldier's blood.

"Pretty sure sir." I said, walking out of the bathroom.

I tossed the brown package over to Colonel Riesling and he caught it and examined the box. There was nothing unique or special about it, and we had no idea what was inside.

"What's in the package?" asked Fenrir.

"Pornography. Isn't it obvious?"

Everyone turned and stared at Denton.

"What?" I asked.

"Yeah! Think about it: all the higher-ups get lonely from time-to-time and I doubt they have enough time to buy a few decent porn tapes or magazines, so they sent us here to steal some Playdog magazines for them."

Everything went silent for a very, very long time, and the colonel looked like he was ready to break Denton's nose.

"I'll shut up now."

"That'd be great." said the colonel.

"Look, it doesn't matter what's in the package. All that matters now is that we got it, so let's move out!"

"Yes sir!"

Colonel Riesling started to walk out of the house with the rest of his unit trailing after us, but as I followed Riesling, I noticed that Zepher was still nowhere to be found.

"ZEPHER! C'MON, WE GOTTA GO! WE FOUND THE PACKAGE!"

I stared at the staircase for a brief moment, but eventually found the burly brown werewolf heading upstairs to join up with us. His entire uniform was covered in blood, and he was busy wiping blood from his face.

"...Zepher?"

"Don't ask."

"...Don't tell."

Zepher and I headed out of the household and re-grouped with Colonel Riesling and the others. It was only the start of our hellacious journey, and I knew that things were going to get worse before they got better. Much worse.