《Two of a Kind Volume 1: Advent & Awakening - Prologue》


 Prologue

    Two black shapes moved through the dense foliage of the forest just outside the mountain town of Lunestra. They pursued a thin man with dark hair and strange eyes that were fully black except for the radiant red-ringed irises. Eyes that weren¡¯t normal to most people, but to these werewolves meant he was their mortal enemy.


    A Crimson Vampire.


    Something to despise ever since their inception long ago. And while this feud had been going on since antiquity, it had been reinvigorated by a small group of Crimson Clan supporters that wanted to change things to the ways of the old Crimson Clan Regime.


    Well, these werewolves would not have any of that as they wanted to maintain peace and order even if the human beings they protected in the secrets of the shadows and during midnight hours would want to destroy them after learning the truth as human beings often want to kill what they fear instead of facing the reason for it.


    The man stumbled and fell against the gravely and broken remnants of a crumbling castle that once was perhaps the personal residence of a noble back in the days when the Crimson Clan and Crescent Clan battled for dominion over the Mainland. Another thing long forgotten by humans, replaced by written word, illusion, and magic to protect them from the truth.


    The man moved into the building, the light of the moon offsetting the darkness in an eerie and silent ambience. The shapes moved after him, stepping into the light of the moon as they revealed their menacing black werewolf forms, stalking forward and descending on him slowly to either side. One of the werewolves was larger than the other, bulky with rippling muscles; while the other was slenderer and curvier, but not for lack of tone.


    Stepping backward, the man thought over his odds. While taking on one was perhaps a possibility for him, taking on two was not a winning proposition. He couldn¡¯t outrun them, so perhaps a close quarters fight would work. He looked from one werewolf to the other.


    ¡°P-please,¡± he said, lifting his hands in a pleading gesture. ¡°Just let me go. You don¡¯t have to do this.¡±


    The werewolves stalked forward cautiously, both letting out low snarls as they kept their eyes on him. He glanced from the werewolves to an opening that perhaps was once a large window, thinking of diving through it and running, but he¡¯d easily be tracked or run down. He couldn¡¯t match a werewolf¡¯s speed, even with his own augmented agility.


    ¡°You killed our friends,¡± the bigger werewolf said in a low masculine voice. ¡°You¡¯ve killed innocents. Did you let them go?¡±


    The man shook his head, his lip quivering. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die.¡±


    The slender, curvy werewolf spoke in a feminine voice, giving a slight smile. ¡°You were never really fully alive, anyways.¡±


    The werewolves pounced on him, and as they bounded through the air, something odd happened. Some sort of shift that made things seem to move in slow motion for a moment, then the two of them tumbled forward as if moving through time and space, rolling against the ground of a room of blackness. They each came to a knee and looked around the darkness, their senses sharp and alert as they both snarled. The forest and moonlight and castle ruins had all but disappeared.


    ¡°We¡¯re triggered a hex,¡± the bulky werewolf said as he looked around with concern.


    The slender werewolf clenched her teeth. ¡°Should¡¯ve known they¡¯d have a magician helping them. We got careless.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we missed the trigger point,¡± the bulky werewolf said.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter now,¡± the slender werewolf said. ¡°Keep your wits about you.¡±


    They moved back-to-back, both looking around, cautious and alert.


    there was a long silence that eventually gave into the sound of echoing footsteps from the darkness, along with slow clapping. It was the same man with red-ringed irises. The Crimson Vampire that was pleading for his life before now had a satisfied smirk, his face sadistic and joyful. ¡°Bravo, you two. You almost had me.¡± He looked different. In control, fierce, and proud as he spoke. ¡°I think you two have lost your touch. I mean, the Crescent Clan taught you to never assume a Crimson Vampire works alone, right?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mock us,¡± the female werewolf snapped.


    ¡°We killed your companions,¡± the male werewolf said. ¡°And we¡¯ll kill you too, magic or not.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± The Crimson Vampire said with a tilt of his head and snap of his fingers.


    Chains shot from darkness, moving on them with quick precision.


    ¡°Mary, look out,¡± the male werewolf said, pushing her out of the way, making it so the chains latched onto his wrists and ankles, pulling him taut as they restrained even his mighty werewolf movements. As the chains pulled his arms and legs out into an x formation, he tried to fight it, crying out in agony as they stretched him to the point of tearing him apart.


    The Crimson Vampire smiled with deliciousness, tilting his head with an admiration. ¡°You werewolves are resilient things, aren¡¯t you? But not unbreakable.¡± He lifted his hand and was about to snap his fingers again.


    ¡°No, please stop,¡± the female werewolf pleaded. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    The Crimson Vampire, holding his hand steady, turned to her with a wicked smile and a low voice of concern. ¡°We want you, my dear. Kindly come to me and I shall release your companion.¡± The vampire¡¯s eyes seemed to glow brighter at the prospect of this outcome, and as he lowered his hand, the chains also loosened a bit, and the male werewolf let out a grunt of pain, his head bowed with exhaustion. ¡°All of his pain can go away if you come to me.¡±


    She hesitated for a moment, looking from her partner to the vampire, then slowly began to make her way over.


    ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ do it¡­ Mary,¡± came the exhausted breathes of the male werewolf. ¡°He¡¯s going to kill us either way. Don¡¯t give him the satisfaction of using his Connection on you and ¨C¡±


    The vampire snapped his fingers, and the chains tightened on the male werewolf again, this time pulling him back to his restrained position and he yelped in pain.


    She stopped in place, looking at the vampire, wondering about these words.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± the vampire said in a reassuring tone. ¡°I will let him go. You have my word. Only if you come to me, though.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± gasped the male werewolf.


    She nodded. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    She stopped, searching for a way out of this, then met the vampire¡¯s eyes. ¡°If you let him go, I¡¯ll do as you say, you have my word.¡±


    The word of a supernatural being, even though it had been broken in the past, was a powerful thing. He had given his, and she had given hers. So, it was pertinent to take this as good as they could get, even in their particular predicament.


    The vampire considered, then nodded. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. The chains unhooked, and the werewolf fell to the ground in a heap of coughing and breaths of exhaustion. After a moment, he leapt into action, a resilient beast with powers beyond measure. But as he flung himself at the vampire, snarling with intensity to kill, the vampire simply smiled, and the male werewolf vanished in a puff of magical dust. The vampire adjusted his well-fitted suit, then looked to Mary with outstretched arms. ¡°There, he has been returned to that barren castle. I have fulfilled my end, now you fulfill yours and come to me.¡±


    She felt herself shiver at the prospect of being so close to him, of being taken in by his cold being, of¡­ things that would happen after that, especially in her human form, but nodded and hesitantly made her way over to him.


    ¡°Uh-uh,¡± he said, lifting a warning finger to her. ¡°Be a good girl and transform back first. Then, come to me.¡±


    She gulped and nodded, focusing her attention on her human side. Her body began to shift shape back into a womanly form. Once the transformation was done, she felt naked standing there in her adaptive outfit that clung to her body. While it was a durable and flexible material, it was thin, and she felt herself flushed with embarrassment.


    ¡°Come here,¡± he said, motioning to her.


    And she did.


    When she came within grasp, he reached out to her, grabbing her and pulling her to him, restraining her with his strength which was unmatched as she was not fully transformed anymore, even if she was stronger than a human. He stood behind her, one hand tilting her neck, the other one forcefully bending one of her arms behind her back as he pushed himself into her, moving his nose along her neck as he took in her scent.


    ¡°I don¡¯t normally drink the blood of werewolves,¡± he whispered in a delighted and horrible deliciousness against her neck. ¡°But you, my dear, smell wonderful. So, I think I¡¯ll take a taste.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°But first,¡± he said, tilting her head so her eyes met his. ¡°I must know something.¡± Those red-ringed eyes felt like a burning fire as he gazed upon her, probing her with his Connection. There was little she could do to resist, feeling like a hanging piece of cloth in the whipping wind. She convulsed for a moment, unable to look away, not just because he was forcefully holding her, but because it felt oddly good to be pulled into those piercing red-ringed, radiant irises behind the pitch darkness that all Crimson Vampires shared.


    She felt her mind ¨C her visions, her past, present, future, and her emotions ¨C being invaded and taken as this vampire¡¯s Connection was powerful.


    ¡°Good girl,¡± the vampire said with a savory smile as he took her in with his Connection, getting everything he needed and wanted, tracing his finger along the skin of her neck, feeling his anticipatory breaths and animalistic nature grow at the prospect of taking her blood.


    ¡°Now, onto better things,¡± he said, opening his mouth to reveal his fangs and biting her neck, sucking her lifeblood from her.


    ¡°Uh,¡± she uttered, her body jerking as she let out little groans as she weakly tried to push him back, to fight, but then they just fell limply to her side, like a dying animal in the jaws of a predator. She winced as her eyes twitched and turned about wildly as she whimpered like a small girl that feared the dark. Then, a warm rush of pleasure moved over her body that made her moan and hug him, pushing her hips against his as if she wanted more, her eyes glossing over with the delighted passivity of an addict indulging in sin. Her shuddering moans along with the arching of her back and leaning of her body into his pleased the vampire.


    When he pulled away, she let out a whimpering cry much like a baby being separated from its mother. ¡°Oh my,¡± he said with eyes alight and a little satisfied chuckle, wiping his mouth of her warm blood. ¡°That was wonderful, my dear.¡± He let go of her, and she slowly slid to the ground, weakly gripping against his clothes and body without the strength to stop herself. She felt her body shudder and yearn for more as her lip quivered and her arms moved up to grab him with no strength in them but that of her dying desire.


    As the seconds passed, she began to shiver and shake as if an icy chill had come upon her, curling into the fetal position. The vampire leaned down and smiled, brushing strands of hair out of her face and whispering. ¡°Thank you for your service, my dear.¡±


    He brandished a purple-bladed dagger from his body, twirling it in his hand and admiring it for a moment as he traced a soft hand against her cheek. He plunged the knife into her heart. She jerked as the tip pierced her, then groaned with wide eyes as the blade penetrated her chest and tore through her heart in that quick, striking motion. Her weak eyes looked to the vampire with the innocence of a fearful child, pleading for him to stop, but as he twisted the dagger, just like his twisted smile, a crunching noise resounded, and the light in her eyes faded.


    ¡°Yes, let the end embrace you, my dear,¡± he said in a low whisper as he held his eyes on her and felt her body become limp as she died.


    And then, she was gone.


    He pulled the dagger from her lifeless body and licked warm blood from its blade in slow, sensual motions. ¡°It is a shame,¡± he said, frowning down at her. ¡°You would have made a wonderful pet.¡± She couldn¡¯t hear him, of course, but he continued anyway. ¡°But there are things in store for Lunestra that we cannot have you interfering with anymore.¡±


    He stood, leaving her lifeless, wide-eyed form staring up at the darkness as he disappeared into the expanse of magical blackness that had ensnared her.


    <hr>


    The male werewolf fell on his face, jumping up immediately to look around, frantic in his movements. ¡°Mary, Mary? Where are you?¡± He was bewildered for a moment. Then, as he blinked his eyes thinking he was mad, he was able to bring himself back as he realized he had been released from the hex trap, which was a dizzying thing to go through. He looked around to the familiar site that was the castle ruins he was in before. Only him, though. ¡°No,¡± he said in a low whisper of defeat.


    He turned as a voice came from the darkness. ¡°Sarah¡¯s gone, my friend.¡± It was that Crimson Vampire they were supposed to kill, moving into the light of the like a shadow of death, a sinister smile on his newly vibrant face which meant only one thing ¨C he had taken Mary¡¯s blood. He felt his fury break loose.


    ¡°Bastard,¡± the male werewolf said, spinning on him and snarling, hatred in his eyes.


    ¡°Oh, my,¡± the vampire said, feigning a shiver as he placed a hand over his heart. ¡°That rage, that fury. If only Ginga could see you now.¡± He smiled and snapped, stepping backward toward an opening in the ruins, moving in and out of darkness and light that pierced the building through the surrounding trees. Two hulking werewolves with gray fur came into the light, descending upon the male werewolf. He spread his arms as he stood between them. ¡°I present you the same odds you were going to give me. Two against one.¡±


    The male werewolf prepared himself, his eyes staying on the cursed Crimson Vampire as he disappeared into the darkness of the night before saying, ¡°Farewell, friend.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your friend,¡± the male werewolf snarled as he thought about lunging after the vampire and taking him out even if it meant his own life. It wasn¡¯t worth it, as he had to focus with all he had to try to beat these odds, and so he leveled his eyes on the two gray werewolves stalking toward him with low growls and hungry eyes.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to do this.¡± He thought he¡¯d try and reason with the beasts, even though he knew ¨C and saw ¨C that the gray werewolves had given into their own Beast Minds, their own madness, their animalistic nature with glossed over and maddened eyes. There was also the ongoing bitter blood feud since the time of the Crimson War. And bad blood even lingered to this day.


    ¡°You look tasty,¡± one of them said in a low, guttural voice, looking like it hadn¡¯t eaten in a long time, saliva dripping from its snout, its crazy eyes zoned in on the male werewolf.


    ¡°Yes, very,¡± the other one said in a similar beastly tone. This one also had a scar over one of crazed eyes.


    Typical of gray werewolves to give into the Beast Mind and let it run the show, the male werewolf thought, which doubly reminded him of why Grays were so dangerous. They had probably been held captive by that Crimson Vampire to the point of starvation, which was also typical of Crimson Vampires. They could never be trusted.


    Either way, he was in trouble as this was probably his end. But he wouldn¡¯t go without a fight, and so he charged, unleashing his full battle rage as he cried out, and they met him with ferocious intent.


    The fight didn¡¯t last long, and while he gave a valiant effort, he was quickly subdued, falling to a knee after one of his arms was ripped from its socket, his body beaten and torn to a bloody pulp with scratches and bites and tears all over. He knelt there, teetering on the edge of passing out, his strength failing him.


    One of the grays moved forward with a satisfied grin. ¡°It¡¯s time to eat.¡±


    The male werewolf was unable to hold them back, and they quickly descended upon him, knocking and pinning him to the ground. They devoured his flesh and being and essence, blood flying from the massacre as they tore and bit and destroyed. He cried out in agony, until one final snapping noise was heard from a pair of jaws biting into his throat in a crunching motion. The only thing left was the snarling and snapping of jaws and squelching of flesh as it was torn from body and devoured. Eventually, they couldn¡¯t keep to themselves, and turned on one another, snapping and clawing at each other with bloodied snouts, each of them wanting full reign over the fresh flesh. This is what happened when the Beast Mind took control.


    As they fought over the meat, they were interrupted by a whistle as the same vampire came out from the darkness accompanied by a figure in a red hooded cloak.


    ¡°Gentleman,¡± the vampire said, extending each word as if he was talking to civilized beings. ¡°Your fight is not with each other.¡±


    They didn¡¯t stop, and so the man snarled with anger, his red-ringed eyes becoming radiant as he yelled. ¡°Stop this at once you pathetic mutts or you will both be nailed to a stake and burned to death.¡±


    They stopped and turned with little whines as if being scolded by their master, finding a semblance of sanity as they cowered and moved to their knees, looking down to the ground, a mixture of blood and guts and saliva dripping from their snouts.


    After realizing he had lost his cool, he smoothed his well-fitted suit, then rubbed a hand against his forehead, muttering to himself. ¡°Ginga, save me.¡± His smile returned as he let out a little sigh. ¡°When you are done¡­ devouring him, I expect you to return to the manner, or else this will be your last meal. Understand?¡±


    They both let out obedient grunts, then moved into action, turning to the male werewolf¡¯s mangled, lifeless body and exposed ribcage, and continued to devour flesh. The vampire turned and ushered the cloaked figure outside, moving into the brightness of the full moonlight.


    The figured pulled back its hood, giving light to a beautiful woman with flowing green hair and pink feline eyes. Her skin cast a radiance of its own, pale like the light of the moon, and her ears were slightly pointed at the top.


    ¡°Werewolves are such mangy things,¡± the vampire said with a disdainful tone. ¡°They have their uses, though.¡± He turned to the woman, and smiled. ¡°Now, where were we?¡±


    She opened hand, lifting it to him, her face expressionless. ¡°My dagger?¡±


    He revealed the purple-bladed dagger, holding it out in front of him in an admiring fashion. ¡°The Elysium dagger that Agatha Ashland once wielded.¡± He held it out to her, and as she reached for it, he playfully pulled it back, which made her frown deepen, as she despised games. ¡°A Great Weapon of Power,¡± he continued, his eyes admiring her as well as the dagger. ¡°A one of a kind, much like yourself.¡± Her face darkened as she narrowed her eyes in an unpleased fashion.


    ¡°One day,¡± he said with a shrug and a smile as he placed the knife in her hand. ¡°You¡¯ll have to let me know how you got your hands on such an item.¡±


    She eyed him with her cat-like eyes, a feral smile crossing her face. ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡± With a sleight of hand, it disappeared under her cloak.


    He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.


    The woman glanced back into the castle ruins, the sounds of tearing and eating of flesh and breaking and crunch of bones emitted from inside. ¡°What about their son?¡±


    The Crimson Vampire frowned. ¡°How did you know that?¡±


    This time, she smiled playfully. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one with tricks.¡±


    ¡°You are quite the woman, Narcissa Dormanhein,¡± he said with a wide smile. He looked at his sharp nails absent-mindedly, not a care in the world. ¡°We don¡¯t have to worry about the boy. He¡¯s just a clueless child, unaware of his beingness and the supernatural.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± Narcissa said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Agatha Ashland, even before her prime, performed many amazing feats as a so-called child.¡±


    ¡°A different place, and a different time, my dear,¡± the Crimson Vampire said with a smirk. ¡°This is why I love having you as a companion, Narcissa. Things are never¡­ dull with you around.


    Narcissa rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Agatha Ashland,¡± the vampire continued, ¡°was born into a world of darkness and necessity. The boy knows nothing, and is nothing. He has no drive. Even if he comes into his own, he will be easily dealt with. He is of no concern to me.¡±


    Narcissa said nothing, letting the silence linger. She may not have approved, but he didn¡¯t need her approval, just her assistance and companionship.


    ¡°The pieces are falling into the place for a new Crimson Uprising,¡± the vampire said. ¡°He¡¯s one of the last black werewolves, as we have effectively eliminated most of them. They are simply pests, nothing but a bug waiting to be smashed. We have enough Grays weaned to our side, and plenty of Crimson Clan loyalists ¨C you and I among them, sweet Narcissa. If all things go well, and they usually do, you won¡¯t have to lift a finger, as all the pieces have been put in place.¡±


    She sneered at being called sweet.


    ¡°With our infiltration of Crescent Academy, it¡¯s only a matter of time,¡± the vampire said. ¡°A little more patience, and we will have everything we need to take action for a new Mainland Crimson Order and to rid ourselves of sulking in the shadows like silly beings as we assume control to what was always our destiny and right as the superior beings of the Mainland.


    Narcissa nodded at this, seemingly pleased at his words.


    And with that, they turned and disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

 Chapter 1: A New Life

    The night was dark, the moon shone bright enough to cast shadows that seemed to dance about and move against the trees that stood like dark sentinels. A large shape tore through the shadows of the trees, eventually breaking free to an opening atop a ledge that overlooked a town nestled between mountains named Lunesta.


    Lunestra was a special place that had, unbeknownst to many of the humans dwelling there, supernatural origins. A destination that brought tourists from all over the world, not only for its mountain ambience and all-season weather, but also for its luxurious shopping and comfortable and cozy lodging even in the harsh and cold winter. Eccentric shops of all sorts lined its Main Street, and while not a large city, comparatively speaking, Lunestra had its own charm, especially when it came to its food and festivities.


    Lunestra was also a place full of whimsical wonder, holding shadowy secrets and creatures and legends and rumors of fantastical beasts and creatures such as this werewolf. While some spoke of the myth of monsters, others lived it because Lunestra was one of the most densely populated places of supernatural beings in the Mainland. But that, my friend, is something that is kept secret, locked away and forgotten through a sort of worldly spell so humans can continue functioning normally, without the fear, and truth, that monsters do lurk in the dark.


    The hulking werewolf leaned into the moonlight as if taking it its warmth like a human being basking on a sunny beach. A gnarly beast with a long snout, vigilant green eyes, muscled arms and bulky form that could snap a tree in two with the swipe of its massive claws.


    The beast narrowed its gaze on Lunsta with its downtown streets and various homes of shapes and sizes and colors. It was looking for something, searching, and after a moment of panning the whole town and finding what looked like its target, it leaned back and let out a terrify howl, its breath seen in the cold of the night air. The echo of the howl slowly faded from existence, becoming as vast and empty as the dark sky, replaced with the sound of a beeping alarm clock.


    . . .


    "What a weird dream," Vincent Black groaned, blinking his tired eyes open, his blurry room becoming clearer with each blink as he arose from his slumber. He rolled over and slapped his annoying alarm clock''s snooze button with a frustrated movement.


    Instead of slapping the snooze button, though, he smashed a dent into the thing, effectively silencing the alarm. He sat up and stared at it, rubbing his dreary eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he smacked his dry lips and cleared his throat while the alarm gave one last beep before it died a robotic death.


    "That''s what you get for rudely waking me," he said with a smirk.


    He jumped out of bed, stretched his arms over his head, and cracked his neck in nervous and excited motions. Which made sense as it was his first day of high school.


    He yawned, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, but moved to his closet and opened it to reveal his school uniform:


    As another yawn escaped him, he grabbed a towel that was draped over a desk chair and moved to the bathroom to start a shower.


    .           .           .


    Cleaned and combed and fresh, he stood with his school uniform on, rubbing his hand through his black hair, turning, and checking himself out in the mirror. While Vincent didn''t prefer wearing a uniform, he had to admit that he wasn''t too shabby looking.


    "Not bad," he said, frowning. "Not bad at all." It was a start, as he reminded himself that first impressions could make or break one''s social life. And he really wanted to have a social life this year.


    The only problem was his tie. After failing to tie it properly for the tenth time, he surmised that he would really need to get one of those clip-on ones. For now, he''d leave it draped over his shoulders. He gathered his things and grabbed his backpack, making his way out the door.


    As Vincent descended the stairs he thought about the past and a time when he was in the locker room in middle school. He was the only kid that seemed to have hair on his chest, armpits, and... other places. Like a lot of hair. It was embarrassing, because while the other boys seemingly had little to no hair, their skin was smooth as a baby''s bottom, and he became the butt of their jokes because of this. He got the name "wolf boy" from there on out.


    He was hairy but he wasn''t that hairy. Suffice it to say, Vincent was kind of a loner throughout middle school because of that and other weird happenings. One would think being called wolf boy would be endearing. It wasn''t.


    Even in elementary he had problems. Like when he was called a dog by a group of boys that had seen him running on all fours and barking like a dog. Apparently, it wasn''t normal, even if it felt natural to him to do that for some reason. While he tried to reconcile with the kids and befriend them, he was pushed down, face forced in to the sand while the others shoved sand down his pants and shirt. He was itchy for the rest of the day.


    The only time adults got involved was when he pushed one of the boys off him in a huff, even slugging another one in the face, knocking him out cold and breaking his jaw, which apparently is quite the painful ordeal. The adults jumped in after he had slugged the kid.


    In the end, Vincent got pinned as the culprit that supposedly started it, and they were just defending themselves as he was bullying them. What a joke that was. And the adults ate it up, because majority rules, right? Five stories against one. He was always a minority in that regard. Alone, and seemingly disliked by all.


    He got expelled for breaking the kid''s jaw and giving him a concussion, apparently. Disorderly conduct and uncontrollable behavioral issues were the official labels. Which was ridiculous because he was only defending himself. Granted, he didn''t realize he had hit the kid so hard, or that his punch would pack so much power. He felt bad about that, he really did, even if part of him felt that the kid deserved it.


    The ruling had been made, though, and he was expelled, leaving him no choice but to attend another school. He had several other incidents which got him kicked out of two other schools, which gave him a bad reputation. But that was in the past.


    High school would be different, it would be better, he told himself. He was going to make a positive impact, even if he was a hairy mess. He''d overcome his difficulties... like trimming down his hairy body hair and... other areas. He was sure he could make a connection in high school, make at least one friend.


    His first real challenge, though, was tying his tie. And since he was now going into high school and thought of himself as an independent young adult, he knew exactly how to solve his tie problem ¨C


    "Mom," he called, moving into the kitchen area where his mother was cooking up breakfast. "I''m having trouble with my tie again."


    His father sat at the table sipping his morning coffee and reading something on his tablet. He lifted his eyes slightly to Vincent, pushing his glasses back on his face, then went back to his reading.


    His mother, a wonderful woman full of so many talents, among them being the best breakfast maker in the world, was whipping away at some eggs in a bowl. She set the metal bowl down and gave Vincent a knowing look as if she knew the drill.


    "Oh, Vincent," she said, taking his jacket and setting it to the side. "Are you ever going to learn how to do this yourself?" She adjusted his collar and tie, and went to work, quickly tying it.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Vincent scratched his already messy hair, which seemed impossible to keep straight, even with a comb and hairdryer. "I tried, mom. I really did. I''m just nervous, ya know."


    "Maybe you should get one of those clip-on ones," his father suggested.


    "Those look tackey, dear," she said, pulling the tie tight and stepping back to check her work, hands on hips, head tilted. She let out a little tsk noise, signifying it wasn''t perfectly straight, as she had quite the attention for detail, on the OCD level, Vincent thought. She leaned forward and adjusted the tie. "Besides, I don''t think your school allows clip-ons as part of the dress code." She patted his chest, seemingly pleased with her work, then turned back to the preparing of breakfast.


    "Your mother has a point," his father said, taking a sip of his coffee. "She knows best."


    He wasn''t wrong as Vincent''s mother was the type to have read over and memorized all the fine details of the paperwork, brochures, manuals, you name it. It was one of the more annoying things about her, because it usually made her right in any kind of argument.


    "Look at my boy," she said, grabbing Vincent''s chin and squeezing it. "All handsome and grown up."


    Vincent groaned and pulled away. "Ah, mom, don''t do that,"


    "Do what?" she said with a knowing smile as she turned back around and emptied the eggs into a hot pan, quickly stirring them as they sizzled away.


    "You know exactly what," Vincent said, plopping down at the table and frowning at the perfectly tied tie. It was so frustrating to be inept at seemingly simple things. Online videos didn''t seem to help, either. All half measures. It was one thing he''d have to master, though, as he couldn''t just let his mom keep doing it. He sagged in his seat, letting out a sigh, determined to go over it again tonight.


    He sat for a moment, taking in the sights and sounds of the room. The sizzling of eggs and sausages, the flipping noises of pancakes as his mother cooked away. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and flowers from his mom''s perfume, the bounce of her red hair as she swayed to a silent tune she hummed. It was nice.


    "What do you think, dear?" Vincent''s mother asked his father as she flipped some completed pancakes and eggs onto a plate. "Doesn''t our boy look dapper?"


    "Sure does," Vincent''s dad said, raising his eyes to look at his son for a moment, brushing a tuft of black hair to the side. He winked, then turned back to his tablet.


    Vincent''s mother turned off the stove and dished out the portions of pancakes, sausages, and eggs.


    Vincent didn''t spare a second, and dove right it, not noticing his parents both looking at him intently. After swallowing a big chunk of food, he cleared his throat which hurt a little as he should have chewed more. "What''s up? Are you guys not hungry?"


    His mother placed her hand upon his, a soft smile on her face. "There''s something we need to talk to you about. Something important." She glanced at Vincent''s father, whom was oddly not drown in his tablet for once but looking right at him.


    Vincent couldn''t help but chuckle a little bit at this odd behavior. "What is it?"


    "Son," his father said, clearing his throat before saying the next words. "You''re a... werewolf."


    Vincent had shoved a whole pancake in his mouth and was chewing on its fluffy goodness as he looked at them, biting down in silence for a moment. After he swallowed, he let out a little chuckle at his dad''s humor, as it was a lame attempt to calm his nerves.


    "Yeah, good one, dad. Wait to keep me on my feet." He thanked his mom for breakfast, and patted his dad on the shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment at his dad''s lame joke. "Good try, though. A werewolf?" he chuckled as he made his leave. "Love you."


    And he was gone, out the door, leaving them both in silence. What he didn''t know, though, was that he was a werewolf, and they were being serious, and he was about to have a rude awakening once he arrived to his first day of classes at his new supernatural school.


    . . .


    Vincent burst out the door, hopped down the steps, and moved steadily down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.


    "Werewolf," he said with another shake of his head and a chuckle. "Well at least I get a good laugh for the start of the day." And it was going to be a good day, he promised himself.


    As he made his approach to the spot where the bus would pick him up, he had this sudden urge to run all the way to school, so he tightened his backpack straps, put his head down, and ran.


    Pumping his legs, heart racing, he felt the invigoration of high spirits move through him. He covered five miles in about 20 minutes, which was astonishing, because he recalled the record for running a mile was around five minutes or something. Perhaps he''d consider joining the track team with this speed of his.


    When he arrived at the school''s entrance, he wiped his sweaty brow clear, feeling a bit odd as he wasn''t super tired after such a long run. It made him think about moments in the past. Weird moments. Like when he ran around the entire school during elementary at recess, not caring that the other kids were giving him looks and pointing at his erratic behavior. He just remembered feeling the urge to run, and not stop, so he ran. There was also the breaking of that kid''s jaw that got him expelled, and... the destruction of many alarm clocks over the years. He had also broken dishes, drawers, and other random happenings that his parents just played off that he began to think of.


    Little bursts of energy, of anger and rage, that just willed him to... unleash, and so he gave into that instinct like he had today, without really questioning it, because it felt right. It felt natural, even if it pegged him as weirdo to other kids. Perhaps he''d have to push those urges away if he really wanted to make friends this year. He''d think about it and decide later, though.


    "Okay, first things first," Vincen said, pulling out his phone, trying his best not to feel overwhelmed by the size of the building and all the activity going on around him.


    High school was different than elementary in that he had language, history, math, science, etc. in the morning. Following lunch, around 1pm in the afternoon, were classes titled "Supernatural & Special Tactics" in room 412 for two periods on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. There was only one on Wednesday. What was up with that title? He didn''t know, so it made him a bit nervous as perhaps there had been some sort of mistake. Either way, he''d figure it out at that time. He gulped, thinking about it.


    Students milled about, getting out of cars and busses as they pulled up, walking by him, and moving through the entrance doors. He felt his nerves tense, which is why he anxiously pulled his phone out and began tapping away on the Crescent Academy app to check where his class was.


    "Today''s going to be a good day, remember?" He reminded himself as he pulled up the directions to his first classroom on the first floor in room 105. A math class. He hated math, which increased his nerves. How hard would it be, he wondered? For some reason, he scrolled and clicked through the map, locating classroom 412, wondering what the heck Supernatural & Special Tactics was. Maybe he should find a teacher or staff member and ask?


    He shrugged it off and tapped the screen to reveal a map that showed directions to classroom 105, and made his way forward. Engrossed in the map and not watching where he was going, he ran into someone.


    "Watch where you''re going, chump," the person said, giving Vincent a hard shove which knocked him to the ground.


    Grunting from the fall, Vincent rubbed the side of his leg as he looked up at the rude culprit. "What''d do that for?" He asked.


    "Cause you were in my way," A kid with messy gray hair said as he glared down at Vincent with judgmental yellow eyes. Vincent wasn''t sure where it was coming from, but the kid''s eyes felt familiar somehow.


    Vincent thought it best to be polite, even if this kid was kinda a punk, so he gave a cordial smile and apologized. "Sorry about that." Chuckling and rubbing the back of his head, Vincent stood.


    The kid frowned. "Yeah, you should be sorry." Then, he gave a wide smile and punched a fist into his open palm. "Next time, I won''t be so nice."


    The kid''s jacket was a bit wrinkly, and his red dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with no tie, which made Vincent wonder if he was breaking dress code as his mother had told him that having a tie tied properly was part of decorum, which he assumed meant something dealing with following dress code.


    "You know," Vincent said, still maintaining a friendly air but trying to assert himself. "You didn''t have to shove me like that."


    "Oh, I kinda did," the kid said, his smirk twitching with a mild delight.


    Vincent suddenly patted his pockets as if he was looking for his phones, then his eyes went wide as saw the sad sight of his phone on the ground, and it''s cracked screen. "Ah man, it''s all busted up," he said, picking it up. The screen had two cracks across the front, with several scratches on the back. He knew he should have gotten a case for it.


    The kid snickered and shook his head. "Serves you right for not looking where you were going, chump."


    Vincent suddenly found himself not liking this kid, his tone, nor the way he said chump.


    Before Vincent could say anything, the kid shouldered past him and sauntered away with a little wave. "See you around, loser."


    Vincent felt a sudden urge to want to stomp after the kid, grab him by the shoulder, spin him around, and punch him in the chin, but stopped himself and stepped backward as a stench filled his nose. The stench of unwashed, wet dog. It invaded his nostrils like an uninvited intruder in the night.


    "Ugh, that''s nasty" he said, lifting a finger to his nose in a vain attempt to lessen the lingering smell. He scrunched his face up. "Yuck." While the smell was unpleasant it wasn''t anything he was not used to as he had experienced little bouts of intense aromas, like the one he had suddenly taken an unwanted whiff of.


    He finished brushing himself off and watched the kid disappearing into the school, scrunching his nose up at the fading smell. "What a punk."


    He looked down at his phone, tapping a finger against it with a frown. Relief came over him as the screen came to life. "At least it still works." He let out a reassuring sigh and made his way into the school, hoping that he would not run into that kid again, but knowing that luck was not usually on his side in that regard.


    . . .