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Lykos Chapter 1 (First Bite)

A thick orange glow hung in the air, given life by the many lamp posts on campus and perpetuated by the fog the drifted along, snaking its way out from the creek. It was an eerie, enchanting glow on a normal night, but it added even more to the ambiance of Halloween. The campus had been transformed for the festivities, going all out. The many trees around the quad and the dormitories had gone through their autumnal shift and red and orange leaves drifted on the breeze. Faint flickers of LED candles gave warmth and focus to the Jack-O-Lanterns sitting in windows and in lobbies, but the biggest sign of life came from the half-glimpsed spirits moving through the fog.

Evening had given way to night and the hours were ticking by. The trick-or-treaters that had come to the campus had left again and the parties had broken out. Toilet paper hung from trees like streamers, little red cups blew on the wind with the leaves and the hoots and hollers of drunken under-classmen drifted through the fog like the calls of the spirits themselves. It was in the midst of this ethereal landscape that Marco Iona found himself wandering a parking lot, shining a flashlight out into the fog.

Marco was eighteen years old, a freshman and a member of campus safety. His parents had encouraged him to join as many extracurricular activities as he could. Swimming had come easily after his childhood in Hawaii, though cross country was a bit harder. Of all his extra-curriculars, though, it was campus safety he was liking the least. Of all the students in the program, he had to be the one that drew patrol on Halloween night.

The young man moved down another row of parked cars, his reflection catching in the mirrors and windows of the vehicles. Marco stood at five foot ten, his short black hair kissed with a hint of gel to give it some volume. His skin was a light cocoa brown, a mixture of his Hawaiian and Latino heritage. While he'd lost a bit of his tan after coming to college, he was still a fair bit darker than most.

Marco's hazel eyes combed the parking lot, then the fences guarding the steep edges of the creek. Up ahead the fog got thicker, pooling around the bridge that crossed the creek and led through the gardens to the gymnasium. In the other direction was another path that followed the creek, leading past the campus theater. Marco held up the light into the fog, narrowing his eyes, trying to make out movement.

At first it was like a ghost moving through the fog, weaving one way and then the other. It disappeared and reappeared, coming and going, advancing and retreating. Marco wasn't even sure for a moment if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing - up until the fog parted and a very large man stumbled out. Marco's back arched and he skidded back, narrowly avoiding being run into by the six foot three sophomore.

The nineteen year old staggered off to one side, grabbing onto some of the pipes that ran into the pump house to keep upright. His brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail at the crown of his head while it hung long and loose everywhere else. It blended in well to the short beard that followed his jaw line and ringed his face, and it also seemed perfectly matched to the pointed fuzzy brown ears angling out from his head. Marco looked at the way the man was staggering and barely standing upright. It was a pretty clear case of intoxication.

"Sir, are you doing alright?" Marco questioned.

"Dolboyeb..." The man muttered in Russian before he dropped to one knee, clinging onto the pipe for dear life. His long fingernails scraped against the metal, cutting through the paint.

"How many drinks have you had tonight? I'm certified by campus health to help you." Marco said, though he wished he was literally anywhere else on campus. He wanted to be one of the guys having fun at Alpha Tau Sigma, drinking out of pumpkin keg... not helping clean up the aftermath. Still, this was his job for the time being. "Sir, can you at least tell me your name? I need to get you help." Marco said.

"Chush' sobach'ya..." The man muttered before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed.

"Shit!" Marco muttered, moving over. He dropped to his knees and turned the sophomore onto his side, trying to keep him from swallowing his own tongue. He checked him over and noticed the fluffy brown tail hanging limply from the waistband of his pants, as well as the claws sticking out of the tips of his boots. It was clear he was trying to be some sort of werewolf for Halloween. Marco lifted his radio from his vest.

"Iona, Keller parking lot by the foot bridge. I'm going to need a medical pick up. Public intoxication." Marco reported.

"Is the student still conscious?" The voice came back on the radio.

"No, he just passed out. I put him on his side.

"Is he still breathing?" The voice replied. Marco winced, realizing he had missed an important step. He reached over, bringing his fingers close to the teen's nose. There was no heat, no moisture, no trace of breath.

"Fuck!" Marco said, dropping the radio. He checked his pockets for the CPR mouth guard, patting himself down. There was no trace. Marco paled a bit, but he knew that the most important thing when dealing with a patient was the speed of the response. He didn't have time for the medical pick up or to get a mouth guard. He had to act.

Marco moved the student again, getting him into position. He moved next, bringing his hands to the proper spots as he leaned in. Taking a few breaths, Marco pressed his lips to the student. He tried to shut out thoughts of the very likely fact that he'd get a mouth full of vomit and began to breathe, pushing breath into the teen's lungs. The breath went in and came out just as Marco's hands began to compress on the chest, ensuring that the heart kept beating.

Air in, air out, chest thump. Marco had been certified in CPR in order to get the job in campus safety, but this was the first time he'd ever used it. The feeling of another man's lips, let alone his bearded face felt quite strange. Marco pushed in more breaths and kept pumping his hands on the teen's chest, working hard, becoming more desperate. He wanted the EMT's to arrive to take over, he wanted there to be a miracle, he wanted any sign of life - and it was at that moment that two bright yellow eyes snapped open.

The Russian man pressed up against Marco, their faces squished together more before the teen closed his mouth. Marco's eyes began watering as he felt the sharp stinging pain of teeth against his tongue, then the bitter iron tang of blood filling his mouth. He pulled back, blood leaking from his lips as he stumbled back in shock. The teenager sat up, coughing and wheezing where he'd just been resuscitated, though the yellow eyes moved back to peer at Marco curiously.

Marco knelt on the parking lot, feeling the cement dig through his jeans and into his legs. His heart was racing, his mouth was throbbing. Blood was dribbling down onto his burgundy safety vest and shirt. He reached up, bringing his hand to his mouth. Marco knelt there, feeling dazed and dizzy. He knew what it was, he'd been trained on it enough. It was shock. Even as he saw the bright blue and red light starting to cut through the fog, flashing on the metal trim around the large windows of Keller hall, time seemed to slow down. That moment felt like an eternity, and in that moment the Russian teen looked into Marco's eyes and actually started to smile. Marco knew it was probably for saving his life, but there was something about that gaze that was almost... predatory.

****

The light of the flashlight shone into Marco's mouth as the doctor took a peek around, running it over his molars and then against the back of his throat, bringing it back forward to focus on his tongue. Marco held his mouth open as wide as he could, though he was watching the doctor's face intently. The doctor glanced up at Marco.

"You do realize this wouldn't have happened if you were wearing a mouth guard." He said. Marco closed his mouth gently.

"I know..." Marco muttered.

"Honestly, saving someone's life is noble, but you shouldn't do it at the risk of your own. Blood born pathogens are no laughing matter, though in this case I think you got off lucky." The doctor chided.

"Is the guy alright?" Marco asked. The doctor turned off his pen light and reached up to lower his mask.

"You don't even know his name?" The doctor asked with surprise.

"I didn't get a chance." Marco muttered.

"According to his student ID, his name is Artyom Yashin. Sophomore. He'll be alright. Doctor Woods is overseeing his case." The doctor explained.

"So he's not going to die..." Marco said with great relief.

"It looks like you got to him right in time. You're going to be quite the hero." The doctor smiled.

"I don't even want to think about that. I just wanted a fun relaxing Halloween and wound up in the hospital. What do I need to do before I get released? Do I get stitches or something?" Marco asked.

"The tongue is one of the fastest healing parts of the body. I'm going to give you a topical anesthetic to numb the pain if it gets too much, but the best thing you can do is keep your mouth clean and be gentle with it for a few days." The doctor explained. Marco grimaced a bit but nodded gently.

"Thanks doc." Marco said.

"Thank you for doing the right thing... even if you did it in an unsafe way." The doctor said. Marco chuckled a bit at that, nodding once more.

****

Leaving the Emergency room at three a.m. was a strange experience in and of itself. The fog that coated campus hadn't made it as far as the hospital so everything was preserved in a crystal clear icy cold. The hospital was so well lit it felt like it wasn't so late at night, though the sky was fairly dark despite the orange glow of the city's light pollution. Marco moved out, rubbing his hands together before bringing them up to cover his mouth, a bit of mist escaping from his lips as he waited for his taxi.

Marco stood there for a few minutes, looking around at how quiet the hospital was. The secondary buildings were all brightly lit and empty like a ghost city. Marco continued to stand there, waiting and taking it all in. The entire night had felt strange. It was like there was something around every corner, behind every fog bank. Marco had never felt paranoid before, but it was like coming to college had changed everything.

The longer he waited, the more anxious he got. Marco turned to look back at the parking garage again, but seeing nothing he let out another vapor filled sigh. The moments trickled by until at last he saw the glowing headlights crawl up the long driveway, coming from a bright yellow van. The taxi van slowed down to a stop out front and Marco moved to open the passenger door, hopping in. In moments the van was continuing on its way to the turn around, circling and heading back out again.

The taxi's break lights snapped on, the red glow moving back, catching in a cloud of mist that drifted in the air. Puff after puff, the vapor caught the light until the van turned and headed down the main street. No longer illuminated, the hot breaths still continued to spill from the thick lips ringed by the short cropped brown beard. Artyom was panting hard, his hand plunged down deep into his pants.

The rise and fall of the tent in his jeans made it clear just how lewd he was being, masturbating outside in the parking garage. Artyom tipped his head back, bearing his saliva coated fangs. He groaned louder and louder before he gasped sharply. A steamy hot wet spot began to spread down the lap of his pants before his shoulders slumped and deep ecstasy filled his eyes.

"Yom!" Came a shout. Artyom growled gently and extracted his hand from his pants, though the cum coated appendage looked hardly normal. The fingernails were brown and long, honed to points and the flesh on the fingertips and palms were swollen into fleshy mounds like paw pads. Artyom turned around, seeing a man in his mid thirties. His brown hair had a light gray streak running through it, matching the gray scrubs he wore. The man looked at the teenager sternly, "You said it was an accident." He said before moving.

"It was... I woke up and he was on me, I snapped. Lucky I didn't bite his tongue off." Yom replied with his thick accent.

"Your accident could destroy everything... Not just for you, for all of us!" Doctor Woods shouted.

"I know! I shouldn't have lost control, I shouldn't have been outside... but what's done is done." Yom growled.

"It isn't done, not yet. There are only three outcomes now..." Doctor Woods said, moving over to the edge of the parking structure, looking out into the night, "He'll wake up as one of us, one of them... or not at all." The doctor murmured. Yom shook his head slowly.

"No. There are only two options. He'll wake up as one of us, or he won't wake up." Yom replied. Woods let out a small grunt at that before he turned and moved back toward the hospital.

"Get to it then. I've got records to falsify... Doctor Clark was too eager to snap up the hero." Woods muttered before he disappeared back in the staff door. Yom listened for the door to click shut before he lifted his cum covered paw. The cold night had drained the heat from the yellow cock syrup, leaving it thicker and more congealed. Yom bore his fangs before a longer than natural tongue emerged and he began licking and slurping at his fingers, cleaning them one by one.

****

The heavy hum of the box fan filled the tight dorm room, the wind current deflecting off of the pressboard wood closet door, sliding across the narrow vertical mirror and past the white cinder block walls before slipping between the cheap plastic venetian blinds, making them click and clatter, allowing the ever present orange glow slip into the third floor room. Marco had come home and laid down, feeling exhausted after the long day. He had half expected to be unable to fall asleep after saving someone's life and getting bit like that, but it seemed the unease of his subconscious was taking its toll on his dreams rather than his waking hours.

Marco tossed and turned in bed, his face tight. He felt hot and sweaty, wearing only his boxer shorts. His legs were kicked out from beneath his top sheet, the garment barely draped over his lap. His brown skin glistened and his sheet grew moist. Despite his discomfort, Marco was sleeping deep. His jaw hung open as he slept, allowing drool to leak down his cheek and soak into his pillow. His hand kept tensing and relaxing, his fingernails digging into his palms.

With each passing moment, Marco's sleep was getting rougher. His heart race increased, his breathing intensified. His muscles twitched despite the sleep paralysis. He was running in his dreams, moving as fast as he could, but they were too vague to tell if he was running from something or toward something. Marco grunted softly, his body finding it harder and harder to keep him asleep. His hand dragged across the matress, his fingernails catching in the sheets, slowly starting to cut into them.

The fevered images in his mind were obscure, random and disjointed. He was in the fog, there was a red glow everywhere. The air smelled coppery. He staggered through the fog across the foot bridge, leaning against the railing. As he leaned over the edge, his eyes widened. The creek wasn't full of water. It was full of blood. Marco's eyes snapped open, gleaming bright yellow for a moment as he let out a shout, sitting upright. He panted hard, realizing it was just a dream... and then realizing how wet his bed was.

"What the fuck?" Marco muttered, sliding one leg out of bed and then the other. He turned around and ran his hand over his sheets slowly, relieved that it seemed to just be sweat... But it was rather disgusting still. Marco glanced at the clock, the glowing green numbers indicating that it was almost six in the morning. Marco groaned at that. He didn't have any spare sheets either... but he doubted he'd be able to get back to sleep right away anyhow. Thankfully the laundry room in the basement was open any time day or night.

****

The lid to the washer came down with a clang before Marco swiped his student ID card through the reader. Credit was applied from his account to the washing machine and before long it snapped to life. The sound of the water hitting the cloth was almost relaxing in and of itself. Marco turned and walked slowly out of the laundry room, heading back down the hall he had come from - at least until he heard a familiar voice.

"Frag grenade... No, FRAG grenade. Silas, can you hear me? Frag..." there was a slight pause, "Great... EMP grenade. You realize you just disabled our defenses, right? All the turrets are down... Yes, all of them." The nonplussed voice replied before pausing again, "And now there's a frag grenade in the middle of the rubble. Perfect."

Marco followed the voice to the large living room like area in the dormitory basement. The room ran nearly the full length on the south side of the building, making room for ping pong tables, a ring of couches and a large screen television. For the moment though it was occupied by a single young man. He was an inch taller than Marco, his shaved short brown hair hidden beneath a beanie cap. Narrow, wide rectangular black frame glasses rested on his nose, accompanied by the glint of a small nose ring on his left nostril. The teenager wore a long sleeve teal t-shirt with a black Linkin Park shirt over the top, his legs covered with teal flannel pajama pants.

"Fletch? What are you still doing up?" Marco muttered.

"Marco?!" The teen questioned, turning around, his jaw dropping. Marco stood in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, his abdomen exposed for all to see. Marco's hair was sticking up in every direction, wild and spiked in an ultimate form of bed head. What caught Fletch most off guard, though, was that in the few short hours since he'd seen Marco last his face was darkened with the shadow of stubble, strongest down his cheeks and on his chin. Fletch fumbled his controller, "What happened to you?"

"Do I look that bad?" Marco asked, looking down at his chest to see if he had missed any of the drool spots.

"Dude, rough night?" Fletch asked.

"Yeah, I guess... I resuscitated a guy that drank too much, but he bit my tongue in the process. Had to go to the hospital." Marco replied.

"You saved a guy's life? Where was I?!" Fletch asked. Marco glanced around.

"Uh, down here probably?" Marco guessed. Fletch grimaced.

"Of course... Hallowarathon. I should have known... But you're never up this late."

"I wasn't sleeping well, figured I'd do some laundry before I went back to bed. How much longer are you going to be up?" Marco asked.

"I promise I won't wake you when I come back in, but thanks to Silas I have to rebuild the northern line. It'll be a few hours." Fletch replied.

"Alright. No rush. I think we'll both want to sleep in after a day like this." Marco said, turning and heading back into the hall. Fletch watched him go for a moment before he heard a hissing in his Bluetooth ear piece. He turned back to face the screen, realizing a cluster bomb had rolled in front of his character.

"Fuck me..." Fletch muttered before the screen erupted in swirling blue flame.

****

Marco reached out and hung up the lime green towel on the towel rack, stripping off his shorts next. He tossed them over onto the yellow tiled floor beneath his towel before he pulled the cheap plastic curtain back and stepped into the shower. The knob was turned and hot water gushed forth with bounty Marco had seldom experienced. He shuddered as it hit his hair and face before running down over his sore shoulders. It really was different showering in the middle of the night. No one else was competing for hot water or water pressure.

The teen opened up his body wash container and let out a thick squirt of the purple gel, dropping the container before he began running his hands over his chest. The gel erupted into a lather of white foam, coating his fingers like fluffy white gloves as he spread it over himself. The lather covered his nipples, his pecs, his abs. Marco let his eyes slip shut as he felt it cover him with silky cleanliness, though his fingers took particular care, feeling the soft strands of hair on his chest that he'd never really noticed before.

The water continued to cascade across his body, washing the gel and sweat from his hair, letting the black mane relax back down. The tang of salt on his lips faded as all traces of the drool were washed away. Marco rubbed the body wash over his arms, his hips, even the parts of his back he could reach. The hot water warmed his flesh, causing his sack to relax, his balls slowly descending lower.

Marco was completely at peace, wondering why he hadn't bothered to do this when he first came home. It felt like he was starting fresh. Once his laundry was dry he'd be able to have a long, restful slumber. Marco turned to let the shower wash the lather from his back, but he froze. Standing before him in his six foot three glory was Artyom... and the man was naked.

His hair was still kept up in the short ponytail, his beard as bushy as ever... but the rest of the Russian was rather impressive. His chest was a forest of fur like hair, his arms dark with fuzz. Even his bush seemed thick, trailing up to meet his chest fur. Marco was frozen in fear, but his instinct for fight or flight kicked in. Marco lunged for the door, trying to get past Artyom but he grabbed Marco, lifting him off his feet.

Marco grunted as he was held against the shower wall, but as Artyom's mouth pressed against his, he was even more shocked. That bearded mouth felt far more alive this time as it worked his lips, working them wider before a long, slick tongue plunged into Marco's mouth. It slid forward and back lewdly, seeking out Marco's tongue. Marco brought his arms up and then slammed them down into Artyom's elbows. Artyom dropped Marco but then brought his hips forward.

It was the first time Marco had felt another cock against his, and Artyom's was big. The Russian humped against him, grinding sharply. Marco's cock started to harden in response, but he wasn't horny - he was pissed off. Marco was afraid and enraged. He felt his blood boil, his muscles throb. He summoned every ounce of strength he had, putting his hands up onto Artyom's chest. With a roar of exertion, Marco shoved the Russian back so hard the wall shuddered.

Marco stood there in surprise that he had managed to dislodge such a large man, but something was wrong. He felt wrong, different, on fire. Marco winced as the heat spread to his finger tips, throbbing and aching. He looked at them, watching in shock as the fingernails thickened and began pushing out, honing to sharp razor like tips. Hair began pushing out of the back of his hand as well, patches of black forming on his knuckles and the outer edge of the back of his hand.

The hair on Marco's arms darkened as well, going from invisible to very visible. Marco became very aware of his hot breath passing over his teeth, especially as his canine teeth began to push out longer into fangs. By taking up more room, his fangs pushed his lips out just a bit, making it harder to keep his mouth shut. He bore his fangs, panting sharply before the dark stubble on his cheeks began growing out at a massive rate. The hair was bristly and thick, forming mutton chops that ran down to his jaw.

The heat spread from Marco's mouth and cheeks to his ears as the flesh began to throb and sting, growing and shifting, taking on points. Marco's eyes glimmered, the hazel giving way to a bright yellow. Even Marco's toes hadn't escaped unchanged, claws tapping on the tiles beneath him. As he stood there, his chest hair thickened, turning black and thick and the hair around his cock got thicker and bushier.

"Oh yeah, that's it... That's my hero." Artyom muttered, standing back up slowly, "Can you feel it? Can you feel the gift running through you?"

"I'm giving you one chance. Get the fuck out of here." Marco said through his fanged teeth.

"I'm not leaving until I put my dick in that mouth of yours." Artyom grinned.

"The only way you'll do that is if you want it bitten off." Marco snarled.

"And after I let you keep your tongue? Is that any way to thank me? But if you want to play rough, let's play rough." Artyom said, lifting his hand. He gave it a slight flick and his fingernails pushed out into claws almost like a switch blade knife. Another flick of his other wrist produced the same result. Artyom gave Marco one last grin before he started to creak his neck.

What started out looking like a stretch revealed itself to be much more. Artyom's ears stretched into points and then flared out from his head as dark brown fur erupted from all over the flesh, giving him animal ears. His beard grew thicker all over his face and his mouth pushed out into a sort of proto-muzzle, making room for the fangs inside. His eyes grew brighter, almost glowing yellow. The clawed hand moved down, groping his groin.

As much as Marco wanted to use his new strength to attack the man, he found himself following the movements. He watched in shock as the Russians foreskin pushed out longer, growing over the tip of his cock... and dark brown fur began growing out of the flesh, sliding up all the way to the tip. The cock began to bulge out then, widening and thickening at a rapid pace before, as simply as it had expanded, it started to contract... but what was left behind wasn't normal. A red, tapered point emerged, contouring out to a glistening red shaft beyond. Artyom's cock had shifted to something far more animal in nature.

"I want to thank my hero." Artyom whispered.

"I'm not sucking your cock, and you used up your chance to leave." Marco growled before he lunged, slashing at Artyom. Artyom dodged, but he wasn't fast enough. Marco's claws sliced into his side, opening up a gash. Artyom roared at that before he slashed back, but Marco was too fast. He lunged and rolled, making several more slashes. A few of them caught Artyom's back.

The Russian werewolf grimaced, realizing that his creation was too unpredictable in his first change. Being trapped in an enclosed space was far from ideal, so he moved for the door. The door swung open and Artyom strode out, landing on his hands and legs before moving with an inhuman pace. Marco knew he had achieved his goal, but he wasn't thinking. He felt the fury and fire in his soul and so he went after his target.

Marco slid out into the hall, his feet easily gripping the carpet. He ran after Artyom, shocked at how animalistic he was. While Artyom was galloping on all fours, Marco was focusing on his cross country experience. His feet pounded the ground, his pace quickened and he moved through the hall as if it was completely natural. The wind blew across his naked muscled body, rippling through the hair on his chest and arms and head.

Up ahead Artyom turned, bounding into the stairwell. He lunged up over the guard rail, dropping half a floor at a time. Marco spun around the edges, taking the longer way but at much faster time. The two almost ricocheted down the narrow passage before the side door between dorm buildings burst wide open. Artyom sped out quickly with Marco close behind.

The early dawn light was starting to cut through the fog, turning the ethereal mass into a glowing white cloud that obscured the buildings from view, muffling sound. Artyom disappeared into the fog, running at full speed and Marco ran after him, leaving Keller hall behind, darting into the parking lot. Somewhere in the fog he could hear a car warming up for its daily commute, but Marco didn't care. He ran after Artyom, his feet padding across the rough black asphalt.

There were echoes of foot falls in the fog coming from the south. Marco followed after, feeling the asphalt beneath his feet give way to cement. He followed after still further before something else struck him. It was the sound of the running water from the creek, just like in his dream. Marco slowed to a stop, feeling his heart race even faster. Fear began building in him, but he cautiously approached the edge. Clawed hands reached up and rested on the guard rail before he leaned over.

What he saw below was not blood, but simple water. He felt a great sense of relief... until he saw his reflection. For the first time since his change, it sunk in. Marco looked at his yellow eyes, his fangs, his bushy sideburns and pointed ears. He reached his clawed hand up, feeling them gently. They were real, they were him. Marco put it all together. Artyom wasn't wearing a costume, he was a werewolf... The whole display in the bathroom, and now this... and when he'd been bitten, he'd become a werewolf too.

Marco looked down at his naked body and shuddered softly, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His cock skin began to ripple and tingle, feeling almost like it was massaging his cock. The flesh got looser and pushed down, rippling as it flooded over his mushroom shaped head. The tingling got itchier as black hair began to curl out of the cock, covering it in a fine coating. The heat grew more intense, the throbbing stronger, and then a soft wet sound came as the skin began pulling back.

Marco watched in horror and excitement as he saw his cock changing before his very eyes. The cock head pushed out from a mushroom shape to a point. More and more blood flowed in, turning it brighter red... and there was something about the foreskin separating into a sheath that left the whole thing slimy. Marco watched it emerge, pushing to six inches, then eight, then ten. He had a dog dick... his dog dick.

Despite all the fear and anxiety, Marco felt exhilarated. The instinct that had pushed him to fight Artyom before even figuring out what he was now told him that he felt fantastic. Marco tilted his head back, parted his lips and let out a resonating howl that filled the fog. The rush of rich pleasure arched through his body before his new red cock twitched. The urethra parted and silky white cum shot out, though after a few squirts it got thicker and stringier, turning yellower. Marco grabbed onto the guard rail with both hands to keep from falling down, gasping at the most intense orgasm of his life.

The spray continued for several moments before at last it dribbled to a stop. Marco lowered his head, trying desperately to reclaim his breath. Marco stood there for several moments in the after glow, but as it faded he started to become aware of his surroundings for the first time. He felt the icy humidity of the god on his naked skin. He felt his balls start to contract and tug closer to his body. He felt his nipples become as hard as diamonds and he felt his claws retracting into his skin, smoothing out to normal nails.

As Marco stood there, the whole process started to reverse itself. His ears rounded back out, the hair on his arms became a bit less visible and the thick mutton chops on his cheeks retracted... some of the way. The stubble was thicker now than ever, as thick as a designer beard from a salon. Marco stood there, shivering in the cold, aware that he was shockingly naked in a public place. He glanced around before he broke into a sprint for his dorm. He had to get in before anyone else saw him... and he had to figure out what in the hell was going on.

****

Rayne Fletcher moved down the hallway of his dorm room, a piece of Japanese pocki candy sticking out past his lips. A heavy backpack hung from his shoulders, carrying his Playstation 4 and its associated peripherals. It had been a very long gaming marathon but Fletch had managed to defend the Forge against those that wanted to taint the soul spring. He reached out for the door knob and turned it ever so slowly before opening the door, not wanting to wake Marco. What he saw instead was his roommate standing naked in the middle of the room.

"Good god!" Fletch muttered, flinging his hands up to shield his face.

"I'm a monster..." Marco muttered to himself. Fletch blindly fumbled for the door before shutting it behind him.

"I don't think this is the time for an existential crisis. Your blood sugar is probably tanking and you need some sleep." Fletcher murmured, parting his fingers to take a quick peek, "And you look pretty fit man, no need to be so hard on yourself." Fletch added. Marco lifted his head.

"You don't get it... I'm different now. He did something to me, I'm... I'm a... werewolf." Marco said softly. Fletch lowered his hands without pretense.

"A werewolf in what?" Fletch asked. Marco shook his head.

"In real life..." Marco replied. Fletch's eyebrows shot up at that.

"I think... we need to head back to the hospital, make sure they didn't miss anything. Its going to be okay buddy. Step one is getting you in some clothes." Fletch said. Marco felt his own internal rage building at not being believed until let out a roar, bearing his fangs as his eyes brightened to an intense amber.

"I'm not lying!" he shouted. Fletcher stumbled backwards before falling on his ass, gazing up at Marco. Marco was panting hard and as he did his sideburns pushed out thicker and his ears stretched into points. It was almost as if his muscles themselves were expanding before his very eyes. Fletcher sat on his ass, his legs spread wide, looking at the roommate he'd known for barely four months. He looked up at his roommate slowly before his eyes finally settled on where he had dared not look.

"Is that a sheathe?!" Fletch asked.

"Rayne, this is serious!" Marco growled.

"Alright, alright... So... This happened when the guy you saved bit you?" Fletch asked. Marco shrugged.

"Had to be it." He said through his fangs.

"Then we just have to find him and get answers." Fletch said.

"I... chased him off already." Marco replied. Fletch's eyebrows lowered.

"You chased... like... werewolf fight? I missed a fucking werewolf fight?" Fletch asked, his jaw dropping.

"He came at me in the shower, what was I supposed to do?" Marco questioned.

"So he was able to find you by scent or something? We can't stay here. We have to go figure this out. They might have some stuff in the library, we could read up about werewolves." Fletch muttered. Marco hesitated.

"Maybe there's a faster way - a way to find exactly what he's made of." Marco considered, calming down enough that his claws retracted and his ears started returning to normal.

"A faster way? Oh right, google." Fletch said, smacking his own forehead.

"No, the hospital. He was treated for alcohol poisoning and stuff." Marco said.

"Ohhh... Medical records. I just thought, well, never mind. But can you get dressed? Not everyone's as naked tolerant as I am." Fletch said, moving to stand up. Marco rolled his yellow eyes and moved over to the closet, trying to find something to wear. He threw the door open and sighed, watching all of the empty hangers clatter together. Fletcher crossed his arms at that.

"What?" Marco asked.

"Do you ever put your clothes in the dryer dude? I've been waiting for a machine for like days..." Fletch barked.

"I've been busy." Marco shrugged.

"Grab something from my closet and lets go. I don't want to get wolf shanked while you check the lint traps." Fletch said quickly. Marco hesitated before heading to the other closet in the room, throwing it open.

****

The automatic doors to the hospital rumbled open and Fletcher moved in with Marco just behind him. Marco looked rather uncomfortable, wearing a red plaid button up shirt with a black hood and blue jeans that were a bit too tight for him, though he had the good fortune of having his own nike cross trainers on. Marco paused, looking at his reflection in the wall of milky glass bricks.

"Will you come on already?" Fletcher whispered.

"I look like a lumberjack..." Marco groaned. Fletch rolled his eyes before he moved up to the reception desk and put on his best winning smile.

"Hey, hi there. I was wondering if I could get a follow up from my brother's doctor. Arty was so disoriented when he came home that we couldn't find the papers about his care." Fletch said.

"Your brother's name?" The woman behind the counter asked.

"Artyom Yashin. I'm Damori." Fletcher replied. The woman typed the information in.

"And birthdate?" She asked. Fletch blinked a bit but smiled.

"Well, you know how brothers are... He forgets my birthday, I forget his, it's a vicious cycle and we end up getting each other gift cards and itunes credit. Isn't there some other way?" Fletch asked. The woman looked more suspicious at that.

"You could call your parents and ask them..." She suggested. Fletch's eyes widened at that and he nodded rapidly.

"That... That is a fantastic idea. I'll go do that and I'll be right back." Fletcher said, moving away from the desk and back the way they had come. Marco moved after his roommate quickly.

"What was that?" Marco whispered harshly.

"I usually make more progress than that... But maybe we can hack his facebook. Maybe his password is werewolf." Fletcher muttered.

"Why would he have a facebook?" Marco asked.

"Why would he... are you even listening to yourself right now? He's a college student. He has to have a facebook. Sometimes I don't even understand you." Fletcher muttered, pulling out his iphone, opening his facebook app. As he moved through the various search functions, Marco slowly lifted his head, looking around curiously. He felt like there was something near by, something at the edge of his awareness. He watched the nurses and patients move past, listened to the beeps and tones of the equipment. He could smell the sharp bite of the antiseptics and even the aroma of human fluids. It was all more vivid than it had ever been before, but none of that was what was drawing him in.

Marco moved away from Fletcher and wandered down the hallway, step by step, closing in on what he felt. His heart rate was increasing, his breathing doing the same. He could feel the tingle spreading into his hands as he grew more anxious but he fought the instincts, trying to keep his wolf at bay. He took a step and then pivoted, coming around the corner, stopping there.

The hallway was abandoned and dimly lit. The rooms were closed and the signs indicated they were unoccupied - all except for one. Light spilled out from under a doorway of one of the offices, though after a moment it snapped off. The door clicked and eased open and a man in his mid thirties moved out. He was clean cut and fairly unremarkable except for the gray streak in his bangs. The man tucked a folder under his arms and took a few steps before he froze, looking up, meeting eyes with Marco. A soft smile crossed his lips.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Just looking around." Marco replied curiously.

"Just be careful, there are a lot of areas of the hospital that are off limits, for your safety as well as that of the patients. It might be best to stay in reception." He said.

"That's probably a good idea." Marco replied. He slowly turned to head back the way he had come, though he focused his hearing on the doctor behind him. The doctor turned around as well and moved back into the office, the door shutting behind him. As Marco rounded the corner again, he yelped, nearly slamming into Fletcher.

"Dude, be careful, these could fall everywhere." Fletcher whispered. Marco looked down, seeing a folder full of papers.

"You hacked his facebook?!" Marco whispered in shock. Fletcher shrugged.

"He... didn't have a facebook account, so I stole the files... Can we go now?" he asked. Marco groaned and pushed Fletcher back toward the door, glancing around to ensure that they hadn't been spotted yet. Marco had never felt more unsure of anything in his life, but he had to figure things out. If one bite could change his life forever, he knew everything was at risk.