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Prelude - Babylon circa 530 years before the birth of Christ

4:30 The king spake, and said, Is not this greatBabylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?

4:31 While the word was in the king's mouth, there fell a voice from heaven, saying, O king Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it is spoken; The kingdom is departed from thee.

4:32 And they shall drive thee from men, and thy dwelling shall be with the beasts of the field: they shall make thee to eat grass as oxen, and seven times shall pass over thee, until thou know that the most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, and giveth it to whomsoever he will.

4:33 The same hour was the thing fulfilled upon Nebuchadnezzar: and he was driven from men, and did eat grass as oxen, and his body was wet with the dew of heaven, till his hairs were grown like eagles' feathers, and his nails like birds' claws.

Now the Fallen One beheld this transformation of the great king and sought an audience with his once and eternal Lord. "Thou hast humbled the great king ofBabylon, seven long years indeed, and Thou will have him repent of his arrogance. But surely though, to a lesser being, surely a common man or woman would curse Your Name." Lucifer took a deep breath, though not to deep to be sure as the sanctified air tended to singe his lungs, and made his request. "I request the ability to alter the righteous man as you have done to poor Nebby, to see if those that praise you would do so under the most grievous circumstances."

And God was amused at this request. "You have learned nothing from your failure with Job then, Satan?" Satan chuckled abashedly. "Indeed, I confess that my experience with Job really was not as I expected. Yet still I would make this request, surely such an affliction as I have in mind would exalt Your Name even more to those remaining faithful to you."

God smiled inwardly at this, knowing that his once beloved Seraphim again foolishly thought that he could outwit Him.

"I am granting you your request Satan, with certain conditions. You may harm no child up until their eighteenth year. You may alter man with the likeness of five beasts, and only five men shall you alter. Finally, in the interest of keeping things fair, you will not have this power until my Son has been sent, so that they will hear my Word and be judged accordingly."

Bowing humbly, the Serpent acquiesced, and departed.

The Archangel Michael chuckled and approached his Lord. "Lucifer has no idea what he's in for, does he, my Friend?"

"Oh, he has some idea. And surely you know that nothing I grant Him will result in anything but a greater defeat for him when the time is ripe."

"Five beasts," Satan murmured to himself. "Violent killers they should be, strong of fang and claw...and...ah yes, spread by the bite." He chuckled gleefully. "And by an urge that even David couldn't resist."

His first choice was the cat, creating the weretiger inIndia, werelion and leopard in Africa, and the werejaguar in theNew World.

Satan then corrupted the ursines, creating the werebear.

Wererats were his next creation.

Satan had seen the violence that swine could be responsible for, so he then created the wereboar.

He pondered long and hard on the rage that he would instill on his primary beast, and filled the canine with the rage and hatred of past millennia. Thus was formed the werejackal and the werewolf. These he hoped might ravage the creation of his Enemy.

But though Man is sinful, he is brave, and he is cunning. Though the lycanthropes spread their pestilence to many, humanity fought back. The wereboar was eliminated within a century of the fall of Jerusalem, and the werejackal fell to the Mohammedan sword in North Africa and the Holy Land shortly afterwards. Though more powerful than any of its infernal kindred, the werebear was never inherently vicious - the victims of that strain of lycanthropy merely saw it as a peculiar aspect of themselves and lived free of bloodshed.

Once the most ubiquitous of the lycanthropes, wererats were eliminated en mass with the Black Death of the fourteenth century. By the dawn of the twentieth century, only the werewolf, werejaguar, and weretiger had significant populations, and only the werewolf was considered a significant threat, largely due to the fact that hardly anyone believed they ever really existed.

Satan considered these facts and grumbled. "My time grows short, and my only significant creations have been all but eliminated!" Indeed, and those creatures that had not been eliminated only seemed to drive those men and women once uncommitted directly into the hands of his Enemy. "If only there was a way to buy myself some more time."

***

Evansville, Indiana - September 20, 2012

Though she was not quite eighteen, Heather Peters looked forward to graduating from Evansville Community College in May next year, and going onto the university. That ambition she was now struggling to achieve as the physics assignment was proving to be a much tougher nut to crack than she had expected. Her thick brows were furrowed in anxiety and concentration as her mind considered the possible reasons that she had arrived at an answer that was bizarre and obviously wrong.

"Forgot to change the units, silly," she exclaimed in exasperation. That problem solved, she was able to complete the assignment an hour later, Heather stretched and got up. She was a petite girl, not even five feet tall, with bluish-black curls surrounding a lightly-freckled face. She lived with her mother, as her father had been lost before she had even been born.

It was Thursday night, and Heather was alone in the house again. Her mother commonly left her alone in the evenings, going out to her business club, her book club, or her bowling league. Her mother was quite active in the women's' community in town. As usual, Heather was quite bored. Since it was a school night, most of her friends wouldn't be over, either due to parental rules, or having to work. Heather knew this, because she'd already called almost all of them.

Heather decided to watch a movie, and headed into her mother's room to pick out a DVD. Heather scanned through the list of titles, looking for a good horror movie to watch. Both she and her mother were fans of horror, and had spent many nights having "horror movie festivals". Finally, Heather decided to watch "Queen of the Damned", since she loved the movie so much. However, when Heather pushed the "eject" button on the player, she saw a disc already in the tray. It was a burned DVD, and handwritten on it was the title "Wolf Coven".

Never having heard of the movie, Heather put "Queen of the Damned" back in its case and shut the DVD player, curling up on her mom's bed to watch "Wolf Coven." With a title like that, she reasoned that it must be a horror film.

The movie started, and Heather could tell by the shaky camera work and the somewhat grainy quality of the picture that this was an extremely low budget film. Still, Heather decided she'd watch it. She was a firm believer that special effects or high profile actors didn't necessarily make a good movie.

It was a bit hard to see what was going on at first; the movie took place at night, in the woods. For the first five minutes or so, it was simply a walking scene. The audio seemed low; conversations were happening, but sounded like little more than mumbling. Heather was puzzled at the lack of credits; this seemed like it would be the perfect place for the credits in a movie, but none were rolling.

The camera stopped as it approached a clearing. The sources of the mumbling were revealed-five figures clad in black monk's robes, and a sixth, a woman in a white woolen robe without a hood like the others. The camera focused in on the white-robed woman, and to Heather's amazement, she recognized her. It was one of her mom's friends, a thirty year old woman namedSharon. Heather understood why there were no credits; it was obviously an amateur movie.

The camera shook for a moment, and then sat still, the holder having placed it on a tripod, apparently, as the person carrying the camera came into view, a sixth robed figure, this one in a burgundy monk's robe. Heather couldn't help but snicker as left without human interference, the camera automatically adjusted for the low lighting, and auto-focused in on the action in front of it. The camera actually operated better without the amateur camera work from its operator.

The lighting in the clearing was much better as well, and Heather realized she actually recognized the area as a wooded area not more than five miles from her home. The five black-robed figures gathered around the woman in white in a loose circle, while the red-robed figure joined the woman in the center.

"Is the initiate ready to receive the final blessing from this Coven?" asked the figure in red, another woman whose voice sounded familiar to Heather.

"This initiate is ready," Sharon replied, smiling at the figures, opening her robe, allowing it to fall to the ground.

"Fellow coven members" asked the red-robed figure, "The initiate is prepared; she knows what it is to be one of us and to become one of us. Let anyone with an objection voice it now." Heather realized where she'd heard that voice before; it was Lisa Singer, the mother of her best friend, Dita.

No response came from any of the black-robed five. Lisa, apparently the coven high priestess spoke once more, "Let Luna welcome this new member of our family and coven, and grant her blessings upon her. Let Luna fill her with the power that Luna has granted us! Fellow coven members, cast off your robes and gaze to the sky, and cast off your human form as well!"

"What the hell?" Heather muttered as each of the coven members disrobed, revealing their bodies and identities. Heather knew each one of them, and most of them she'd known for years. They were all friends of her mother's, and all had daughters near her age, except for one. At first, Heather didn't recognize her, but then she stepped into slightly better lighting, and Heather recognized her...it was her mother.

"Mom!? What are you-" All of the coven members stared skyward, Lisa included, and a simultaneous tremor went through all of them. A mysterious sound suddenly could be heard, an alien popping sound. The women all began to moan, falling to the ground. The moans turned more to snarling, and Heather was shocked to see the women sprouting hair along their backs as they went to all fours, heading more to the center of the clearing and the initiate who simply stood still, never running.

Now afforded a better view, Heather could see the action much better, as the camera also seemed to have an auto-zoom feature as well. The popping was the sound of their bodies' bones reshaping and muscles growing. More fur grew over their bodies, and the women's nails became taloned. Their ears elongated and grew pointed, now poking through their hair. Their faces stretched slightly, jaws jutting out, filled with fangs, their noses blackening, their brows thickening.

Heather was unable to turn her eyes away. She gasped as she felt a strange warmth just below her bellybutton. Heather caught herself, shaking her head in confusion. What was she watching that made her so aroused?

The wolf women stood up, and with them was a new wolf woman, one who looked quite a bit like Sharon. They scattered into the woods, howling, save for her mother, who walked over to the camera and turned it off with a clawed finger. Then the screen went blank, the movie done.

Heather was confused; had her mother really starred in a werewolf movie short? Compared to the rest of the film, the special effects were phenomenal, reminding Heather of movies like The Howling. There was no way that anyone her mother knew could afford to do those sorts of effects. But of course, that led to the only possible conclusion: her mother was in a werewolf coven or pack or whatever. Could that possibly be true?

She was conflicted; part of her wanted to tell her mother what she'd seen, and ask for an explanation. It wasn't like she'd been snooping, or that she'd been in her room without permission, her mother was perfectly okay with her using the bedroom to watch movies. She and her mother had always had a very open and honest relationship, she felt confident that if she asked, her mother would tell her directly what was going on.

But on the other hand, werewolves rarely wanted people finding out about them. Perhaps doing some investigation might net Heather more information. Heather glanced at the clock; it was only nine. Her mother wouldn't be getting home for at least a couple of hours. She definitely had time to invade her mother's privacy. Her mom worked out of their home doing medical transcriptions and billing on a computer nestled on a small desk in the corner of her bedroom. Heather looked over and noticed that it was still on. Heather was willing to bet that if there was any incriminating evidence that it would be on the hard drive somewhere, as Heather had her own computer. Mom would never expect her to be using hers.

Heather felt slightly guilty, invading her mother's privacy like this, but she had to know the truth. Since time was of the essence, she ran a file name search, for anything containing the letters "wol", figuring she'd catch anything named wolf, wolves, werewolf, shewolf, werewolves, or shewolves. She doubted mom would be concerned with security, as she'd been so careless with the movie.

Heather waited impatiently for the search to complete.

The search ended, and Heather's jaw nearly dropped. Staring back at her in the search results were easily 100 files or more, all from the same root directory - C:LibrariesVideosWerewolftransformations. "Wow," Heather said to herself, "Could you be a little MORE direct, Mom?"

Closing the search, Heather opened up the directories and found the folder named "Werewolftransformations." In it were several subfolders, apparently named for each of the women featured.

As far as Heather went, this satisfied her search for proof. She didn't need to see anything more. She knew what she needed to know. As hard as it was to believe, her mother, and all of her mother's closest friends were werewolves.

Heather found herself quite tempted to look at the contents of most of the folders. It was a deeper desire in her, and one that she really didn't understand. Not that she needed to see more changes, but something inside of her really wanted to.

Heather waited on the couch in the living room, watching television nervously for her mother to come home. She found herself tempted still to go back and watch the movie again, or to check the files on her mother's computer, but fought the urge. It was frightening her quite badly actually. What the hell was happening to her?

Around eleven, the front door opened, and her mother walked in.

"Oh, hi, honey," her mother said, "I didn't think you'd still be up."

"Mom...we uh...need to talk," Heather said, not really sure now how to breach the topic with her mother.

"Sure, honey, what is it?" her mother asked, obviously unaware of what she would soon be asked.

"Mom," Heather haltingly began, "I decided to watch a movie tonight...and there was already one in the player. I um...thought it must've been a horror movie I hadn't seen and I...watched it."

"All right..." said her mother, confused.

"It was called 'Wolf Coven'. Is this ringing any bells for you, Mom?"

"Oh, oh my..." her mother replied, "You saw THAT one? I was sure I'd put it away."

"Well, Mom, you were wrong. It was just sitting in the player, and...and I just watched it...and...and now I am REALLY confused about aLOTof things, mom," Heather said, starting to choke up.

"Well, honey..." her mother began, "let me get you a tissue, ok?"

Heather nodded, instantly recognizing the look of motherly concern behind the question. Heather felt a little surprise at how fast her mother turned the corner and returned tissues in hand, to a seat at the other end of the couch.

Debra spoke softly, "I'm sorry I was so careless, sweetheart," she sighed deeply, "I guess I need to explain a lot. I wanted to wait another month and we could have had this conversation differently."

Heather nervously fingered her tissue, "Mom, please, what do you need to explain?" She stared at her mother intensely, trying to discern as much as she could from her mother's solemn bearing.

"Heather, before I go any further, did...you feel somewhat strange when you were watching it, deep inside you?"

Her daughter nodded. "A little," she whispered.

Debra's face darkened and she bit her lip. "Heather, I'm sorry. The answer is quite simple. I am a werewolf." She squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "And honey, I'm afraid that you are too."

Heather sat back in shock, and then relief. She started to talk between chuckles, "Mom, Jesus, you had me worried," Heather swung her tucked legs over the side of the couch, "I'm glad you can joke about this, but I still need a real explanation. I saw some pretty weird stuff on that tape. I definitely would have rather not saw it, but I did, and I saw some other stuff, too, on the computer." She paused to watch her mother's reaction, "What's really going on?"

Debra smiled softly and reached for her daughter's hand. Heather held her mom's hand and felt Debra squeeze gently and steadily. Debra looked down as she started to speak, "I suppose I should show you your heritage, eh?"

Heather felt her mother's grip change slightly. The softness she knew from her mother's touch suddenly began to feel rougher, almost calloused. Heather went to look down, but paused as Debra lifted her gaze. A gasp escaped Heather's mouth as she saw the green in her mom's eyes enveloped by an almost glowing gold. Debra began to breathe deeply and shuddered slightly, opening her lips deliberately, allowing Heather to watch as her canines slowly extended outward.

Heather jerked away from her mother in reaction. She looked down as she pulled away and saw the bare skin of her mother's hand darkening with a full covering of hair. Debra raised her freed hand to Heather's eye level as her nails darkened, thickened, and pushed forward into claws. Heather was mesmerized by the impossible transformation happening before her eyes. She felt a childlike urge to run and hide under something, but a new fear and awe of her mother kept her grounded to her seat. The moment paused in time for Heather, so much so that she did not notice that the transformation had stopped.

A husky voice broke her reverie, "Heather, honey, are you alright?"

Heather slowly allowed herself to focus on the woman in front of her. Her mother's face stared at her, but with changes too apparent to deny. Debra's face sported new eyes, teeth, and ears Heather had not noticed before: slightly longer, and definitely pointed ears.

Her mother looked nothing like the fully transformed figure she had seen on the DVD, but a quick second look at Debra's furred fingers caused Heather to stammer out the only truth available to her, "Mom, you're a werewolf!"

"I thought we'd already established that, honey," her mother said in a familiar voice, yet far huskier than her usual one.

"Umm...Mom," Heather sheepishly said, "Do you think you could, you know, change back? This is seriously too weird for me to handle right now.

"Oh, right," her mother said, sounding a little surprised, as though she'd forgotten she'd slightly shifted. Within seconds, the fur retracted along with the claws and the fangs, and her ears had returned to their normal size. Heather once again saw herself with the woman who'd raised her, and felt more comfortable.

"So..." Heather began, searching for the words, a myriad of questions scrambling through her mind, "Everything I saw on the DVD was real?"

Her mother nodded, "Along with anything you might've found on my computer, not that I appreciate you snooping around like that."

"So all those women, they're werewolves too?" Heather asked, knowing she was asking questions with obvious answers, but not really caring. She wanted to make sure she had every detail correct.

"Yes, dear," her mother said.

"All of those women have children, and you said that I'm a werewolf too. So are their kids werewolves as well?" Heather asked, wondering if she'd been wandering around with a nascent werewolf pack in high school.

"No, darling, aside from Dita," her mother said.

"Wait...what?" Heather asked, suddenly getting concerned. Her best friend was a werewolf??

"I had known Lisa only a few months after moving down here from Vancouver, but we were good friends very early on. Your father and I were attacked on a camping trip shortly after I found out I was carrying you. The werewolf that attacked us was Lisa's boyfriend, and she had been attacked just a month earlier."

"And now you're telling me that I'm a werewolf too...but why wouldn't I change during the full moon?"

"To be honest, Heather, I'm not sure that you will. I hope you won't, but the way you said you were affected, I think this hope isn't justified. Werewolves don't change until they are eighteen. You'll probably change in a couple of weeks, right along with Dita."

Heather felt a cold ball in her stomach. "You hope I won't...Mom, are you saying that if I change I won't be able to control myself?" A lump formed in her throat.

"It took Lisa and I several years before we didn't fear the full moon. Eventually you will learn to control it as we did."

"I think you're wrong, Mom," Heather said, "You might be a werewolf, but I'm not."

Debra smiled weakly. "I can see how you'd be upset."

"I'm not like you!" snapped Heather, "I-I'm not a monster!" Heather leapt off the couch, heading for her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, locking it. She buried her head in her pillow, clutching a stuffed bear to her tightly. She couldn't be this...she couldn't be this...could she?

Exhausted after some teary hours, Heather finally fell asleep. She got up after slapping the snooze button to her alarm clock several times in succession. She stretched, feeling groggy and empty as one usually does after a minimal amount of sleep. After washing up, she went downstairs.

"I figured you would be in the mood for a light breakfast after what I put you through last night," said Debra. "Just toast, OJ and Wheaties. I have some shopping to do today, I'd be happy to give you a ride to school."

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great, Mom. Uh, sorry I was so sharp with you last night, y'know I still can't believe this..."

Here mother pursed her lips, curious. "What, that werewolves exist, that I'm one, or that we both are?"

"NONE of it!! OK...OK, I know that what I saw on the DVD could be great special effects, by the way Mom - you need some work on your filmography, and the same goes for what was on the computer...though to be honest, I didn't really look at any of the folders. But when you came home and changed right before me, that SHOULD have been enough to convince me of anything you told me. Even so, I can't really accept what my eyes told me."

Her Mom smiled broadly. "I'm glad to hear that Heather. I'm glad. I'd always wanted my child to grow up asking questions, to develop the wits and the courage to challenge what she saw." Debra pulled up a chair and sat down next to Heather, stroking a loose lock of hair out of her daughter's eyes. "Everything you saw is real. Three times a month, eh, every month for the past eighteen years and seven months, I've been changing into a wolf. I'll tell you more along the way."

As they exited the driveway, Heather asked, "So what does the, uh, change FEEL like, Mom? Does it hurt?" Debra seemed to shiver slightly.

"It's not really what you would call 'pain' Heather. It's INTENSE. Every cell in your body is being altered, every nerve, every vein, every muscle fiber, every inch of your skin, and you feel it all; pressure, tension, exhilaration. Words...can't do it justice."

Heather was silent for a few moments? "Can you stop it?"

Debra shook her head. "I can change voluntarily either way when the moon isn't full, but for those three nights a month it's a command performance. And, I have to confess, for the first few years there is hunger, there is bloodlust. There is a danger to others that you're fully aware of but can't control.

THIS revelation made Heather's stomach lurch, and she felt a lump grow in her throat. Werewolves really were monsters?

"Mom, you transformed partially on the video. Like the movie versions?"

Debra nodded. "What you saw was our hybrid form. That's the form we can take during the full moon after a few years of experience, or any time the urge strikes you when the moon isn't full. The hybrid form is useful, but to be honest with you Heather, the full wolf form is more pleasant."

Debra smiled at her daughter as they reached a red light, gently squeezing her shoulder. "I bet I know what you're thinking. 'Maybe if I avoid the question, I won't have to face it.'" She shook her head. "Heather, it will most likely happen to you. You will feel fur grow all over your body; your teeth lengthen into fangs and your face stretch out into a muzzle. A deep hunger will grow inside you to feed on anything crossing your path."

Heather tried her hardest to keep her emotions in check, but she was sobbing now. "I don't WANT to be a werewolf!" Her mother nodded, understanding. "Do you remember when you were eleven? You were just starting to develop breasts, and you were terrified." The Porsche pulled into the ECC parking lot. "This is exactly the same thing."

"Oh for God sakes Mom, you're telling me I'm gonna turn into a fucking MONSTER!! This is NOTHING alike!!" She slammed shut the door of the Porsche, trying to regain her composure.

She had to find out more, and felt she really couldn't trust her mother for it, not now anyway. Heather went to her two classes scheduled, and found that it was all she could do to pay attention to either economics or physics. Two hours later she was checking the library for anything remotely related to werewolves. As she skimmed through the handful of books available on the subject, she realized that it was pretty much a moot subject. What she really needed to find out was what would actually be in store for her on that first Friday night in October.

Heather gingerly ran her hand over the books composing the 100 section of the library. It came to rest on a good-sized book: The Prophecies of Nostradamus. She raised an eyebrow. I guess it wouldn't hurt to give this guy's methods a shot, she thought. She thumbed through the book for a bit more detail.

Sitting alone at night in secret study; it is placed on the brass tripod. A slight flame comes out of the emptiness and makes successful that which should not be believed in vain.

Hmmm, that might have applications. She continued her perusal.

The term scrying, deriving from the English descry--"to make out dimly" or "to reveal"--denotes an ancient art of clairvoyance: concentrating on an object until visions appear. Scrying has been practiced by magicians and Witches through the ages.

She hesitated. She might indeed be a werewolf, but she had no shame in being pure in heart and saying her prayers at night. Maybe I should just wait and see, maybe there is someone else I could talk to, thought Heather.

She shrugged angrily. Maybe I should do whatever it takes to find out for sure. She took the book to the front desk for checkout, and then hailed a cab to take her home. Heather went directly to her room, locking her door and closing the drapes. Mom wouldn't be home for another few hours most likely, maybe something would be revealed.

Heather filled a small dark basin with water, she made herself comfortable, relaxing on blankets she pulled from the bed and contemplated the water filled basin before her. Taking a deep breath, she asked quietly; "What happens to me on the next full moon?" Heather relaxed, looking at but not focusing on the water, and waited.

She really didn't expect anything to happen, so it was a surprise when she noticed the dark water clouding over. She froze, not wanting to mess things up, yet still a bit unnerved by what seemed to be occurring. An image appeared, was it a face? HER face? The image wavered, trembled, and faded. Another image came into view, a landscape...a rugged plain, bordered by forest. This image seemed to grow in her eyes, to become clearer. As it grew, darkness appeared at the edges of her field of view, the growing shadow quickly grew to cover up the image.

Heather lost consciousness.