Author Topic: Lycan Giveaway Time!  (Read 23908 times)

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Offline Michael

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Lycan Giveaway Time!
« on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 19:18:16 »

LYCAN GIVEAWAY!!!!!



Ok folks - here is the scoop;


Write your werewolf story - how you became a werewolf, and how you would handle the situation. Would you embrace your lycanthropy or fight to contain it?
Write up a solid 1 or 2 paragraphs (or more if you are so inclined). Bonus points for creativity :)


Rules:


1. Put some effort into it
2. Have fun doing it
3. We will pick the top 3 stories (maybe more)
4. Drink lots of water every day
5. Be nice to others
6. Don't poop where you eat
7..... I got nothing else.


This contest will end on November 1st.


Good luck and most importantly, have fun!!!!


« Last Edit: Sun, 01 November 2015, 20:15:31 by Bro Caps »

Offline Jhonan

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #1 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 19:58:40 »
I guess I'll start the festivities

I sniff the cool midnight air and scent something on the wind. The silver moon hangs high above me and the leaves crunch under my paws. For the third moon I have changed. I fought it the first cycle. My body tortured as I laid huddled in the small shack on the edge of the woods. Even now, I fight the change, but I do give in. I can’t fight it. The change, the fur, the crunch of bones in my mouth after a successful hunt. They are all a part of my life as one of the two-natured.

The scent is stronger as I creep deeper into a thicket of trees. I make little sound as my paws pad along the vibrant reminders of fall. I know, in the human part of my mind, that it’s cold outside, but my thick grey fur keeps me warm tonight. The smell. I am unsure if it’s prey or foe. Everything in my life is either prey or foe. Blood or more blood. But this scent, it seems different. Somehow sweeter. Somehow softer. I lift my nose high along a wind current and am still puzzled in both my brains as to what it could be.
Without much warning, a growl sounds to my left. I have been careless. I didn’t catch the change in direction of the wind. The rich, sweet scent drifts from the growl. I feel my lips peel back from my teeth in warning and turn just my head towards my uncertain foe. My eyes, much better in the dark than ever before, spot a black beast. Female. It’s a female and somehow I am sure it’s two-natured like me. Her eyes have an intelligence not found in beasts. Instincts roar to life; ones I didn’t know I had until this moment. I want to roll around and bathe in her scent. I want to make her mine in all the ways our kind can.

She snarls a warning, hackles raised along her taught spine. I make short, cautious steps toward her, my tail tucked between my legs. I don’t want to scare her. I want to bathe in the moonlight and run and bite and **** and share the kill with her. I sniff the air between us and let loose a small howl. She smells like everything I want. She sniffs back and lowers her body to the ground. A small sign of acquiescence. I make small movements around her, making sure not to startle her. I think hard about what this could me for me, for us. I begin to see a future with possibilities and not torture. A companion. Someone who understands. The human in me wants to ask her name, learn her story, but all I can ask for is this night.

Her sleek body leans toward my head as I complete my round. She sniffs my face and gives me a shy, small lick. I smile on the inside, sure in the fact that we will indeed at least share the night. When the moon sets and we change back to something less wild, less ruled by the darkness, we will see what happens next, but for this moment, I am happy. We both lift our noses to the wind again and trot off in the direction of small sound further into the woods. Maybe there will be blood.

Offline ManicMatt1125

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #2 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:00:59 »
Reserved!

Offline 1swt2gs

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #3 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:09:27 »
I had way too much fun writing this! Sorry I wrote a whole essay! Got carried away.


The Red Hooded Werewolf
--------------------------------------------------------------------

Once upon a time there was a werewolf, well who are we kidding, I’m talking about myself. Everyone always asks how werewolves came to be so here’s your answer. I was born in the high altitude Alps and deep woods, specifically the Black Forest region. But that’s not really important. People always think that werewolves are these evil things but in reality most of us are just like the average human.  We are peaceful for the most part, we live where humans live, we search for love, have families, and try to overcome problems. We sleep, eat, play, but the most important thing is we have to hide who we truly are from the humans. I lived a crappy happy, always in fear and hiding until I ran into the girl with the red hood….

The girl in the red hood was the best thing that happened in my life. I was walking through the forest one-day minding my own business when I noticed a pig was running around and squealing in the front of a house trying to dig its way past the old wooden fence. Against all my temptations to have bacons and eggs for breakfast, I went up to the persons house to let them know that they had a pig on the loose.

“BING, BING”, the door swings open. “Hello Ma’am…” was the only words I could get out before the grandma starts screaming at the top of her lungs. “HELP, WE HAVE A STRANGER STEALING OUR PIG”. I gently guide the old lady into her house and entered in behind her, “Ma’am, I knocked on your door to let you know your pig was escaping!” The old lady would not have it, she was shrieking at the top of her lungs. The follicles in my sensitive werewolf ears were tingling, my sound is after all, heightened 10x what the normal person hears.

 “STFU, I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU” were the last words out of my mouth. I couldn’t take it anymore, the screeching was unbearable. The neighbors probably think I’m harming this old lady, I could sense people starting to get suspicious. Already starving from my morning stroll along with the thought of bacon and eggs for breakfast, well, you can guess what happened next. I ate her… My werewolf instincts kicked in right after my meal. I no longer cared what happened. I was full from my meal and had no remorse. Food coma kicked in, I already ate her, might as well take a nap.

I was in a deep dream when I heard a knock on the door. “Crap, I’m caught! Oh crap, oh crap”. My werewolf form had come out, I had to hide it. I immediately grabbed the old ladies clothes, threw it on, and dashed into bed.

“Come in!”

The girl with the red hood slowly waltz in. “Hi Grandma! I brought you some wine and cake! I have so much to tell you! I had an amazing stroll through the forest this morning!”

“I’m not feeling too good today, can you leave the food on the table and come back tomorrow?” Stupid nosy little girls I tell you, she would not listen. She started dancing towards the bed. “Grandma, you got really hairy. You are really warm. What big eyes you have. What big ears you have. What big teeth you have!” Long story short I swallowed her too.

So that’s the story of how I acquired the house I live in now. I gotta say, I didn’t mean to eat the poor grandma and the little girl. Shortly after the story of The Little Red Riding Hood spread within the village. It’s good they make me out to be a bad guy though. I don’t have to hide my identity anymore. I get the house to myself and no one dare nears my property. I never really liked humans anyways. 
« Last Edit: Sun, 25 October 2015, 21:02:19 by 1swt2gs »
Such artisan, many caps, very keyboard.

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Offline asdfjkl36

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #4 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:10:41 »
Oooooo
This gon be good


Offline mylove1431

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #5 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:18:27 »
resevered
Just A little Bear

Offline njbair

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #6 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:21:27 »
What is this "reserved" stuff? There's no points for having your story show up first.

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Offline thatsmrdoctortoyou

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #7 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:22:27 »
What is this "reserved" stuff? There's no points for having your story show up first.

I was wondering the same thing. Good luck everyone, can't wait to read some stories!

Offline Michael

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #8 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:37:40 »
What is this "reserved" stuff? There's no points for having your story show up first.


Happens all the time...



Offline njbair

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #9 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 20:57:09 »
I wasn't always like this. My werewolf origin story begins the same as anyone else's: I flipped a V2 at 2x retail and the next thing I knew I had yellow eyes and insatiable bloodlust. At first I tried to fight it, overcome with remorse over the loss of innocent life. But it turns out werewolf me only attacks Redditors so I just gave in.

Being a werewolf isn't so bad, really. It's a convenient excuse for all the leg-humping and floor-urinating I do, and all those extra nipples come in handy way more often than you'd think. If I could change just one thing, though, it would be the butt-licking. The whole time I'm just thinking that it's so gross but I just can't stop.

Alpine Winter GB | My Personal TMK Firmware Repo
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Offline Halverson

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #10 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 22:08:13 »
I was once a human, then I became a Worgen. Then I had to suffer through the starting area. 0/10, would rather not have gone through it. hehe

Offline Sent

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #11 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 22:09:14 »
This should make for some awesome reading material. :thumb:

Offline Hexterdude

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #12 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 22:30:44 »
The sound of my heavy breaths is the only thing to break the silence on this cold winter's night. I had woken up on the ground surrounded by snow and staring at the empty night sky. Nothing but utter darkness, the snow slowly biting into my skin as it tried to envelop me. How had I gotten here? Where was I? Why am I here? These questions echoed through my skull as I  continued to stare at the sky.  A small speck of snow hits my face shocking the rest of my body alive. I suddenly feel the piercing cold all over my chest and upper body.  I look down at my chest and see it bloodied, only strands of fabric covering my measly frame.

I try to get up but my legs feel like jelly, snow falls on me again much to my annoyance. I try to recall how I had gotten here but all I recall is blackness. I raised my arms to try and stretch them out only to find scratch marks all over them, purple bruises patterning my arm. Was I mugged and thrown into the snow? My breath starts to sound softer as begin to try and to figure out what has happened to me. I realize that I'm underneath a tree and that's why the snow kept pelting my sore body. I'm able to prop myself against the tree and look at my surroundings, I'm in a forest.

Crap.

Lost and injured in a forest... why? I look down at my chest to see dried blood on it. I touch my chest and find no wounds meaning the blood isn't mine. I frantically move my head trying to find the source of the blood, maybe my assailant had been taken down with me. I see nothing but snow for miles, I grudgingly decided I have to get up and find help. I slowly push myself up using the tree for support, wincing as I slowly stand. The pain in my arms and chest are subsiding but the soreness remains. As I stretch my body I realize that my wallet and phone are still in my pocket. So I hadn't been mugged?

I desperately pull out my phone hoping to call someone to help but to my dismay it was out of battery. I decide its better to walk and then sit here waiting for help. I started heading towards a snowy hill hoping to get a better vantage point. As I walk i keep trying to remember what had happened and how I had gotten here. The numb feeling in my head is preventing me though, the memory is there, I just can't summon it. I sign as I continue the walk. For some reason although I'm practically shirtless, I don't feel the cold biting into my skin. I must be so numb to not feel the cold.

The moon and stars is covered by the clouds rolling over the valley. The wind is kicked up as I continue to stumble my way up the mountain. The whistle of wind sends a shiver down my spine as I cover myself with my arms. As I'm warming myself up I noticed that the bruises are no longer purple but brownish and the scratches are just pink marks now. That's impossible though, humans don't heal that fast. My mind is playing tricks with me. I continue my trek up the hill trying to clear my head of my delusions however I feel a tingling up my spine.

I turn my head around and look up, a ray of light extends from the clouds, the moon is coming. Suddenly my senses sharpen, my eyes that could barely see anything in the snow were suddenly able to make out my surroundings. I feel goosebumps run down my arms as I fall down from the shock of overwhelming senses. I can feel my blood pumping and adrenaline rushing through my veins, what's happening to me? For some reason my eyes are drawn to looking at the ray of light, as if I'm being forced to look at its source. The hairs on my neck are standing up just by the pure presence of the light.

As the clouds slowly move away, allowing the moon to illuminate the sky, I begin to remember. I remember why I had been in the valley, I remember why my clothes were like, I remember why I'm like this. I'm not human. As the memories flow I begin to shake violently, not from the inevitable transformation, but for what I had done before. I remember her face, her sweet smile and the way she'd that look with those sea green eyes of her's. The way he would always look up to me and smile, the way I picked him up and tossed him from one side of the couch to the other. I remember the look she gave me when I first changed, the look horror and shock, her shriek as she ran to protect him. His eyes were wide eyed as she went to wrap him in her arms, a look of shock with a lack of fear. I remember walking towards them growling, the lack of control I had and the hunger I felt.

I remember the sounds of flesh tearing and bones breaking, the taste of flesh and the sight of their bodies just before I left.  I remember the pain I felt in my hurt as I ran. My body begins the shake more violently as I begin to cry, I let out a scream that can be heard throughout the valley. Not a howl like earlier, but a cry of pain and anguish, the cry of a man that has lost everything. As I continue to sob the moonlight pours over the lower half of my body, slowly creeping up. I can feel the change accelerating, my muscles beginning to change, my hair growing out at superhuman rates, my fingernails turning razor sharp. I continue to cry, awaiting my doom, hoping, praying that someone would help me.

"Hey Bro" I hear a voice say from behind me, "We got a newbie".

Two men walk into my view looking down at me and just stare with folded arms.

"What do you want to do with him?" says one of the men, he's wearing a shirt with a picture of lake and appears to have bunny ears on his head.

"He's about to change, we'll follow him and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone although is looks like we're a little late for that" says the other man. This one wearing aviator sunglasses and a leather jacket.

These two odd looking mean continue to look at me but not with fear, but with curiosity. "You have to leave!" I yell, "Its not safe her, I'll kill you  two if you don't leave!". To which the two men look at each other and chuckle.

The man with the sunglasses bends down and look me straight in the eyes. I see in the reflection of the lenses that my eyes have turned yellow. The moonlight i nearing my eyes as I look down. The man take off his sunglasses and looks directly at me. He has yellow eyes as well. He smiles. "We're here to make the wrongs you've done tonight right" he says.

He then stands up and walks back to the other man. Suddenly, a blinding light hits my eyes, my body contorts in numerous directions as the change begins. My hair grows to cover my entire body as I feel my my gum bleeding as the sharp teeth erupt out. My senses are suddenly enhanced to the point I realize that the men don't have he scent of fear emanating from them but a scent of power. I know who they are now, I know what they are, they are just like me, a werewolf. I look up at the moon with anger and let out a howl that rocks the valley. A howl of anger and anguish signalling the return of a monster. Me.
« Last Edit: Sun, 01 November 2015, 16:51:13 by Hexterdude »

Offline GL1TCH3D

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #13 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 22:34:07 »
What is this "reserved" stuff? There's no points for having your story show up first.

I was wondering the same thing. Good luck everyone, can't wait to read some stories!

Sneaky way to reserve your post

Offline Belfong

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #14 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 22:37:46 »
I hope it's not too cheesy..

=====

I am a big fan of Stephen King’s novel. My favorite among all of his book has to be ‘Salem’s Lot. That book got me thinking into becoming a vampire. They are so cool – super-natural power, ever young, they still look like human participating in lots of nocturnal (read sexual) activities and most importantly, beautiful. There are no ugly scars, unkempt hairs and body odor. God, I hate BO! I wonder whether that turtle-guy is not washing because he’s trying to keep vampire away or something. I’m not sure, but I bet he doesn’t need to wear any garlic ring around his neck, that is for sure. Anyway, I digress.

And so, I have been on a hunt to get myself acquainted and hopefully get my neck punctured by those lovely neck puncturing teeth. I don’t know where vampire hang out these days, didn’t have the time checking out those teen vampire movies and so all I have for reference is Stephen King’s books. I even went so far as to explore that Pet Semetary, hoping that by sleeping in that ancient mound, I get to be revived in vampiric form. Alas, it doesn’t work this way.

One day, I was frolicking with a beautiful brunette who claimed she’s a vampire – she was wearing a t-shirt with two big owl eyes, wait, is it bat eyes or owl eyes? No matter, they are beautiful pair of eyes, hmm. I managed to ask her out on her day off and what better place than the Overlook Hotel for some nice little punching actions, huh? And so we are exploring the bases at that creepy bushes near the playground and suddenly, something bit my leg. What the **** is that? I kicked it off and it let go a loud whine – I must have kicked its balls or something – and it scurry off back into the bushes. I had two punctures, alright, at the base of my leg, and it looked nasty, really nasty!

That night, I felt a tingling in the lower part of the body, not where I was expecting especially when the owl-eyed t-shirt-be-gone brunette is still on my mind, but at the wound in my leg. I looked at it and to my horrors, I see furs! Ugly little strings that remind me of pubic hair, covering my entire leg! Oh my gad, what is happening? And I feel such rage inside me, I am not sure rage over what, maybe it was the recent reddit drama I was reading, I am not sure, but a big hairy rage is growing inside me. I can’t contain it. I feel like, maybe an open letter to Overlook Hotel will help? You know, why are they growing puppies in the bush in the playground? I went to the PC, but I can’t type. Hair is growing all over my face and my eyes are covered by it. I can’t see – good thing I have a HHKB, blank caps, so I technically could type with my eyes closed but no, my hands! Omg! They have long sharp fingernails and my motor skill is not minute enough to control each finger to tap on the keys!

I flung the monitor and the PC across the room and caress the HHKB while I tried to come to terms with my rage and my deformed, ugly look. Across the room, the monitor flickered and finally died. In the darkness, I see my reflection on the screen. Wait, is that a pumpkin I am seeing? No, it’s not. That fang… that elongated eye – it has similarities to a pumpkin but no, with my now extremely sensitive eye and (wait, do I have night vision now?) I can tell that it is a face of a Lycan! I am turning into a vile and ugly and ANGRY beast! And the smell! OMG, that BO smell in my apartment!

Suddenly, from a distance, I heard a howl… a music, soft at first, growing louder and louder.
I heard someone saying "owwwwwwwwwwwww" and then

“It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark
Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart
You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes,
You're paralyzed”


I am drawn to this song and so with great agility, I leapt through my window and join the growing crowd on the road, back dancing and moon walking my way to an unknown future.

edit: grammar and spelling..
« Last Edit: Sun, 25 October 2015, 22:48:43 by Belfong »
 

Offline Hexterdude

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #15 on: Sun, 25 October 2015, 23:56:47 »
What is this "reserved" stuff? There's no points for having your story show up first.

I was wondering the same thing. Good luck everyone, can't wait to read some stories!

Sneaky way to reserve your post

I'm currently work the front desk at my resident hall so I'm doing this while juggling work, school work and dealing with silly freshmen

Offline linkshine

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #16 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 00:35:39 »
RESERVED. Oh man, this is right up my alley!

Offline R1N3

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #17 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 00:47:13 »
Hahah these are great!

No story here, just me and my sexy cousins on the Cherokee rez being IRL werewolves

Offline Karura

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #18 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 00:53:25 »
-NSFW WARNING-

This literally just happened two months ago, but I'm still slightly traumatized. To give just a bit of background, I'm a 17 year old transwolf human male with a penchant for rowdy keyboard parties.

On this fateful day, I ****ed up by having a threesome with two sexy Victoria's Secret models as they both complimented my huge magnum keyboard. We continued to fondle each other's keyboards for a good 3 hours before my hot, female boss called to give me a raise. She heard the noises in the background, knew what was going on, and showed up to join in! Now it was a foursome! I gave all of them my BroBots and Clacks like 5 times each, but then realized after all the fun that I had used up all my artisans and Krytox lube. :(

The sheer amount of testosterone-mixed-with-Krytox in the air had over stimulated me, awakening my dormant lycan genes, transforming me into a full-fledged werewolf.

I now spend my moonlit nights prowling landscapes, destroying all counterfeit K3s I come across, and distributing my remaining few artisans among the sleeping children, giving those less fortunate and BroCap-less some hope towards future sales.
« Last Edit: Mon, 26 October 2015, 15:36:07 by Karura »

"Remember boys, raccoon cold... don't worry, raccoon will find cave." -Sent

Offline n0rvig

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #19 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 01:14:46 »
Story time! Great stuff so far guys!

Offline thefebruaryman

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #20 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 03:28:44 »
**** the stories myths and legends.
Fundamentally it all comes down to genetics. We all have junk DNA left over from our
evolutionary past. However for some people its not junk, its something else.
I met the other part of myself a long time ago on a pissed walk home from the student
pub. I was angry and upset my best friend had just walked off hand in hand
with a girl I had been trying to pull for weeks. The **** knew this but that didn't stop
him cock blocking me to the max and bad mouthing me in the process. That’s when it hit me
like a ice cold vodka being poured over my brain and down my spine. Everything became
quite in my head and I felt calmer than I had ever felt before. I was truly in the
moment. It was like everything was new and every sense was heightened and more. I could
see colours, smell smells and hear sounds that I had never known existed. And that’s when I
started to run faster and faster. Each muscle working perfect unison, feeling strong
and warm and powerful. I don't know when it happened but at some point I found myself
running with my hands as well. Pushing myself off the floor in leaps and bounds tearing at
the floor as I went. In no time I was out of town high up in the woods by the lake
jumping of trees moving at an incredible speed. I came to a stop at the lakes edge
noticing how beautiful the moons reflection looked in the water. And in a almost
clichéd movie way I look down at my own reflection. I didn't see the face I had seen for
almost 20 years. Staring back at me was white fur long teeth and pointy ears. I wasn't
scared it was liking looking at the back of your head. You don't do it much but when
you see it your know its still you. I am lycan and the world is mine!

Offline Zorberema

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #21 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 04:46:07 »
I've allways been told that I'm not allowed to go into the forest. Only dad and the other alpha males are allowed to go in there. Why? I don’t know, all I know is that it is dangerous, at least that is what they say...

When I first saw him I was terrified. It was late in the morning and the sun was shining with a horrifying light. The frightening sound of the birds had just appeared and there was no one else around.
   The first thing I noticed was his lack of hair, only a small patch upon his head. The light illuminated his pale white skin and it struck me with a feeling of great horror. He was standing right in front of a small firepit and he seemed to be placing some food on it. He wasn’t going to burn the food was he? Suddenly he turned his head towards me. I think he might have heard me, so I ran away as quickly as I possibly could. Since that moment and on, he’s been haunting my dreams for every single day.

***

It took about two weeks for me to recover, but eventually I did. And when I did, I started to get this peculiar feeling. At first I was scared because this was the first time I’d ever felt that way. I tried to wait it out but the feeling simply wouldn’t go away. I had no choice but to return.
   Every single day as everyone else had fallen asleep I went into the forest to see him. I always stood in a small glade about a 100 metres away, watching him from a distance. At first I was scared, but the more I inspected his behaviour the more I started to understand him. There was a pattern in everything he did. The first thing that I noticed was his sleeping routines; why on earth was he sleeping on the night? As soon as he woke up he seemed to prepare some sort of food. He doesn’t only eat meat, rather he seems to pick these small colourful things from the bushes and eat them. When he eats, he uses tools that I could never imagine in my brightest dreams. He picks appart the meat of his prey with a precision I'd never seen before. This is not even the worst part of how he eats; it is how he prepears his food. He puts it on top of the fire and waits until it changes colour instead of eating the food right away, why would he destroy it like that!?
   But the most frightening thing about him is neither his looks, his tools or how he eats his food; it is his hunting routines. When he goes hunting, it’s not the normal way that my parents do - no, this is  different. He sneaks around with a string tied to a bent stick which he’s using to launch away something sharp and pointy. I’ve seen him use that thing and when he does, there’s no mercy. When we hunt our victims they actually have a chance to see us and run away. It’s impossible to do so when that monstrous man hunts, they don’t stand a chance. Imagine what would happen if he hunts down one of us...

***

As the pack returned from this night’s hunting, our servants began searching for a place where me and my parents could sleep. Eventually we found a large but empty cave. Little did everyone know that I wasn’t planning to sleep today. All these months, and I still hadn’t forgotten him. It was something about him that I couldn’t resist. I know everyone tells me to stay away from him but I don’t care; I have to do this, I have to talk to him. I have been watching him from a far distance for all of these years without daring to take a step even though I’ve been taught to be brave. I’ve been able to do all sorts of tasks that my people consider brave, but why couldn’t I do this? He’s so different compared to my kind, but in some way I think I’ve started to understand him. I need answers, what is this feeling? My stomach feels weird and I’ve never felt this way before. My paws hammered rhythmically on the ground as I rushed over the field, through the forest - I was finally going to do it. I ran as fast as my legs and arms could carry me, following the path that I’ve been making from all my journeys ever since I was a child. I jumped over a few logs and then right out into the clearing where he had his camp. He was now right in front of me. I opened my mouth to utter the words that I’ve been longing to say.

***

‘I have been here in the cottage for far too long’, I thought to myself. The constant feeling of loneliness had grown stronger and stronger for each day, and it felt like I was about to reach the breaking point. It was not just the feeling of being alone, but there was always a constant threat from the horrible monsters living all around. I was lucky they never seemed to walk into this part of the forest, otherwise I would’ve probably been dead by now. Only the thought of it made me shiver.
It was time to prepare breakfast so I made my way out of the door to fetch some berries. But right as I put my foot outside, I heard something getting nearer and nearer. ‘Why would they be in the forest on the day?’, I thought to myself. I tried to shake it off but then I realised the sound now was increasing for each second. I ran forward and grabbed my bow that I’d placed by the firepit. And then I saw it.
It jumped over a few logs and then right out into the clearing where I was standing with my bow prepared to fire. Now I was facing the werewolf. It opened it’s mouth but before it was able to launch itself on top of me, I released the bow.

THE END

Offline baldgye

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #22 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 05:05:06 »
Do I get bonus points for writing it in crayon?

Offline Kirfloof

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #23 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 05:15:01 »
Neat idea, I'm more of a scribble artist than a writer but I'll throw in something later when I've gathered up my thoughts.

Offline swimmingbird

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #24 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 05:45:20 »
Really excited about this!
Will you accept audio format?

Offline malaik0

  • Posts: 48
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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #25 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 05:53:57 »
Im like this " ohhhhhh I have a very interesting story  ;D ;D ;D... but after that thought i just remember that I m so bad writing english so probably no one would understand  :-[ :-[ :-[ :-[ "

good luck guys and nice stories  :)

Offline ice31000

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #26 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 08:43:43 »
reservered.
iceyy

Offline dreadvirus

  • Posts: 106
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #27 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 09:49:37 »
gettin on the bro-train for a 'reservation' :))

Looking 4: GID reaper,Clacks
Offering: Dark/Green Warmaster,Raven,G2

Offline Jema

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #28 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:01:10 »
I was once a human, then I became a Worgen. Then I had to suffer through the starting area. 0/10, would rather not have gone through it. hehe

I see what you did there

Offline Michael

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #29 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:01:26 »

Offline mobbo

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #30 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:02:58 »
Okay I got very carried away - I hope this still falls within your criteria and if not, well I had a blast over lunch anyways  :))
______________________________________________________________________

I had been always searching for someone like me. I wanted so desperately to know I was not alone.  If only I knew. If only…

I awoke to a bright light. An incandescent bulb swung faintly from its wire as if something was rumbling overhead. As my vision came into focus I saw two figures in long coats standing in the shadows. In my hazy state I snarled and snapped my jaw at them, only to be greeted by the sound of metal scraping stone. “Where am I?!” I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The figures stood in silence and for the first time I took in my surroundings.
 
It was either a cellar or a bunker of some kind. It looked rough and damp – but unusually clean. On one end stood the two figures and what appeared to be an industrial metal door behind them, the kind you would expect to see in a vault or a military facility. At the other end of the room there was a small table with a box on top of it. In the center of the room was me; bound to a large chair which was bolted firmly to the ground.  My feet were in chains and my hands cuffed behind my back. On my face was a thick leather muzzle. Oh god, how the hell did they know? I hadn’t transformed for months. My heart started racing and I started juddering against my restraints. My wrists burned against the handcuffs and I yelped.

“Careful,” said the figure on the left. “I hope you’ll forgive the discomfort, but we had to take extra precautions.” Silver. The handcuffs were made of silver. He took one step forward and the light just brushed his lower face. I could see him smiling. “It has been so long since we’ve found someone like you” he whispered through his teeth. 

Something immediately primal welled up within me. Primal urges are nothing novel, but this…this was different. It was the first time I had ever felt what humans call fear. Before I could ask what he meant by “someone like you” the figure on the left, a woman judging by the scent, went to the back of the room and opened the box. It reeked of melted silver. She came back around with a syringe filled with metallic liquid.
“Diluted silver,” she said as she flicked the tip of the syringe, pushing the bubbles of air to the top before expelling them. I didn’t feel her puncture my skin but I could feel its contents weakening my strength as she pushed it into my veins. The haziness started to come back.

The man unstrapped me from the chair led me to the metal door. I thought of escaping, I thought of biting his throat and throwing his accomplice against the wall, shattering her bones; but I was helpless. Weak, and bound by leather and silver.  The metal door screeched open and I followed the man into a hallway, when I smelled something familiar. Something like me. The hallway stretched out into an open room and that’s when I heard it. Howling, yelping, and swearing. As we entered the room I looked up at what appeared to be four floors of cells – all lined with silver bars. Inside were thin men and women with curved fingernails, low-set ears, and a swinging stride.

“Welcome to the world’s best kept secret,” he said. “Now you’re a part of it.”

END
« Last Edit: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:23:07 by mobbo »
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Offline Sinanju

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #31 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:12:05 »
I preface this with
1) I'm not the best writer and hope it isn't cheesy.
2) I had an assignment for my LTC regarding the Battle of Gettysburg which explains the time era.
3) Thanks for the giveaway, Bro.
4) Good luck to everyone.
_______________________________________________________________________________


July 1, 1863.  Day 1 of the Battle of Gettysburg
We didn’t know where they came from, we didn’t know why they attacked us; all we know is that as we lose our comrades, they gain them.  It has been about 5 years since the first Lycan Battle that shook both the Union and Confederate forces at Gettysburg.  One minute is was man against man, brother against brother, North against South.  It wasn’t until companies of men begin to die to the beasts that it became man against wolf.

In the years that have followed, we began to win.  The temporary coalition between Union and Confederate forces was enough to hold them back.  However, after taking large casualties, the Lycan began not to kill their opposites, but to turn them. In doing so, they began to rebuild their fallen ranks into a sizeable army.  The monsters we told our children about, began to win.
These demons would bite a human and leave them alive so that the transformation from human to beast could take place.  Once bite, the victims eye’s would start to glow an eerie yellow tint.  Within a couple of hours they began to lose their humanity, acting more like beast than man.  As the days pass, their appearance would begin to reflect their newfound canine instincts.  In total, doctors found that the human to lycan transformation took on average of six days to be complete.

July 2, 1868

It has been five years since I was at the Battle of Gettysburg.  We were told how we would defeat the confederates, and now I’m serving chow to them.  Being a mess cook isn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but it keeps me relatively safe and able to provide for my family.  My regiment has been placed in support behind the main lines to the right flank guarding a silver mine that is used to create the ammunition to slay the beasts.  I’m not sure if they know that the silver mine is here, but they seem determined to take this area regardless. 

July 3, 1868 2200hrs

After finally finishing up my shift, I headed to my barracks to call it a night and get some well-deserved rest.  The lycans have been pushing hard into our flank and the main line has taken causalities. Luckily, another unit took over the main line and having fresh troops can be a better defense against an onslaught of wolves.
It was when I was nearly asleep that the door slammed open with a shadowy figure.  As he moved into the light, I could see that it was Private Dennison.  He looked out of breath and worried.  Asking him what’s wrong, he delivered the dreadful news.  The fresh troops of the Regiment were not battle hardened enough to hold the line.  A survivor was able to make it to us to sound the alarm.

July 8, 1868 0400hrs

Ever since word got out that there was no one between us and the Lycan, the Regiment Commander tasked every person for guard duty.  We drew straws to decide who got what shift.  My straw wasn’t the shortest, but it sure as hell wasn’t the longest.  The weather was nice out, a slight breeze with an unusual cloudy fog that limited the visibility that we received from the full moon. Nearly falling asleep on duty, my blood chilled when I heard a howl.  “Dennison,” I whispered to my fellow sleepy partner who was out of sight further down the line.  No response.  He probably fell asleep, he is just a kid after all, barely 17.  I grabbed my musket and moved down the line to find him and ask if he heard the howl as well, of if I am just losing my mind from the lack of sleep.  Surely enough, he fell asleep looking down the sights of his rifle. I started to shake him awake when a large force shoved me down to the ground. 

I looked up to meet the cold eyes of a Lycan, it felt like an eternity pulling up my rifle and pulling the trigger while he jumped towards me.  I may be a cook, but I’m a decent shot.  The beast fell a few feet in front of me with a silver round to the chest.  The commotion was enough to wake up Dennison and see what was going on.  I began to explain to him when he seemed to turn a ghostly white.  I asked him what the matter was, he struggled with his answer “y….you….your eyes.”
« Last Edit: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:33:37 by Sinanju »

Offline lolpes

  • Posts: 384
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #32 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 11:33:28 »
I was just sitting there on the couch watching television when my dog came in to play with me, he likes to pretend he is biting me, just to run away and then come back and bite again, while jumping around in the couches so I can catch him. He always leaves the room a mess.

I noticed he started looking outside, but just briefly, up to the moon, which was full today, it seemed to catch his interest. And then i noticed something strange when the moonlight touched him, like a flash, for a mere second it looked like he stared straight at me, with another face, aggressive and his teeth looked bigger, more menacing, he starts running towards me and jumps...just to keep the play going.Must have been my imagination.

And then he bits me, for real! Just like a sting, damn that hurt, he left a gash and it was bleeding...and wait is he smiling at me? Did i just see my dog smiling at me? What the ****?! He then proceeds to go outside. This must be just me imagining things...i need to rest.

Just before going to sleep I start to feel a strong headache, I've had a busy day. I take a pill and go to sleep...

In the middle of the night i hear footsteps inside the house, and see my dog coming into my room, did i leave the door open? Wait he is definitely smiling at me again and this time it doesn't go away! My headache gets stronger and stronger and suddenly I feel a slight warmth on my arm. The moonlight is touching it! I start getting dizzier and the pain keeps getting stronger, I feel like my bones are going to burst out from inside me. They are moving, relocating, getting bigger. Fur is growing, my hands are now paws with claws sharp as knifes. **** I am a werewolf!! The pain is gone, i feel good under the moonlight.

I feel an urge, like hunger, but It's more intense, i have never felt like this and all i can smell is...blood!
I think about my family and what are they going to think, have they been bitten to? and wait, my dog is he still here??

"Yes i am" he says smilling. "I heard you, your toughts. You need to feed"
"But, how? and my family, what are they going to think?"

"You know what to do....I choose you, not them"

Offline Jema

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #33 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 13:09:26 »
An excerpt from one of the greatest men to ever live fictionally, Dwight K. Schrute III:


Offline lolpes

  • Posts: 384
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #34 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 13:17:17 »
An excerpt from one of the greatest men to ever live fictionally, Dwight K. Schrute III:


Wow nice :D guess werewolves being common house dogs is not a new idea, dang it :( but most of the story was based on my interactions with my dog and yes he does kinda smile from time to time xD He does it when getting belly rubs

Offline CaplockJack

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #35 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 14:04:38 »
Do I need 100 posts to enter? 

Offline Michael

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #36 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 14:10:18 »

Offline tigersharkdude

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #37 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 14:26:57 »
I really want a white lycan but I am terrible at writing stories :(

Offline lolpes

  • Posts: 384
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #38 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 14:29:19 »
Do I need 100 posts to enter?

You should read rules 5 and 6 I think they apply to obvious trolls ;)

Offline mobbo

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #39 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 14:30:05 »
I really want a white lycan but I am terrible at writing stories :(

Give it a go anyways! I'm not much of a writer either but once you get going with a little bit of plot in mind - things can get really interesting. You might surprise yourself.
Quote from: Binge
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Offline lolpes

  • Posts: 384
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #40 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 14:37:37 »
-NSFW WARNING-

This literally happened two months ago, but I'm still slightly traumatized. To give just a bit of background, I'm a 17 year old transwolf human male with a penchant for rowdy keyboard parties.

On this fateful day, I ****ed up by having a threesome with two sexy Victoria's Secret models as they both complimented my huge magnum keyboard. We continued to fondle each other's keyboards for a good 3 hours before my hot, female boss called to give me a raise. She heard the noises in the background, knew what was going on, and showed up to join in! Now it was a foursome! I gave all of them my BroBots and Clacks like 5 times each, but then realized after all the fun that I had used up all my artisans and Krytox lube. :(

The sheer amount of testosterone-mixed-with-Krytox in the air had over stimulated me, awakening my dormant lycan genes, and transforming me into a full-fledged werewolf.

I now spend my moonlit nights prowling landscapes, destroying all counterfeit K3s I come across, and distributing my remaining few artisans among the sleeping children, giving those less fortunate and BroCap-less some hope towards future sales.

I loled :D

Also I am broless and it is full moon :o

Offline crayzieap

  • Posts: 87
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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #41 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 17:14:32 »
Not much of a writer of stories.  But I figure I'd hit every contest criteria with a poem that I call "Were-Brolf".

------------------------
Were-Brolf

"You promise?" I ask. A growl replies from the night.
I take that as a yes and undress in moonlight.
A claw comes from the darkness and rakes deep into my arm,
and it hurts a lot - more than I thought - much to my alarm.
I can feel it working fast, my hair grows as muscles thicken,
But a lick of my crotch and I howl "Betrayal!", for instead of beef, it tastes like chicken.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anyone in the mood for some Halloween themed Bronads now?  Bro please make it happen!!  ;D
« Last Edit: Mon, 26 October 2015, 23:02:34 by crayzieap »

Offline zlittell

  • Posts: 80
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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #42 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 19:47:00 »
Some people say I look like Scott Speedman.  I spend most of my days hooking up with Kate Beckinsale.  At first she wanted to kill me, but like I am way too awesome.  Weird people are always trying to steal my blood, it sucks.  Sometimes she takes two pistols and spins while shooting to drop to the kitchen on the first floor.  Her sandmiches are good but not that good.
« Last Edit: Mon, 26 October 2015, 21:21:17 by zlittell »

Offline Michael

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #43 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 21:18:38 »
With all the nonsense going on today, I missed out on all these stories. Keep 'em coming guys :)

Offline crayzieap

  • Posts: 87
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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #44 on: Mon, 26 October 2015, 22:59:16 »
With all the nonsense going on today, I missed out on all these stories. Keep 'em coming guys :)

Ha.  Glad to hear from you Bro especially with the recent drama. Hopefully our stories will lighten the mood and give you some laughs :)
« Last Edit: Tue, 27 October 2015, 18:00:19 by crayzieap »

Offline BlueNalgene

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Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #45 on: Tue, 27 October 2015, 00:05:51 »
I was supposed to get something worthwhile accomplished today.  Instead I spent a few hours writing a short story.  The length and choice of homage may DQ me from the contest, but I won't mind.  I honestly enjoy sitting down and writing a story every once in a while.





Excerpt from the Ess. Trib.
Thursday October 30th 1924
Editorial
P. A. Lovell


Editor's note: no changes have been made by the editorial staff.
   Though it has been some time in passing, I presume that all members of the educated set are quite aware of the series of strange events transmitted over wireless from translations of local publications.  Indeed, the news held the majority  of the region quite enraptured at the time.  Perhaps the fading of such an ill-hued spotlight has left it little more than a trivial footnote.  For those of us who witnessed it, the night terrors keep an ever vigilant sentry against such pleasant ignorance.  Time to heal was something which was made quite abundant to me as I came to accept the things which I saw in this old asylum.  It is only now, after what feels like a lifetime of disjointed half-memories, that the staff have deemed me fit of humor enough to possess a pen.  Against the urging of investigators and, perhaps, my better judgment, I now set out to clarify what was witnessed in that dark unholy forest. 
   The original reports from sources in more civilized regions along the Danube gave titillating witness to the emergence of a feral child from the forests in that state still known to many as Bukovina.    Just as readers were enraptured by tales of the bizarre behavior in this individual, members of the academically minded class were ever tempted by the chance to observe this pale savage.  As a recently hired assistant under the tutelage of eminent professor Ulysses G. Harlan at his former post, I was presented with a unique opportunity to observe the creature myself.  Ashamedly, I admit that it was I who pointed out the wireless tales to Dr. Harlan from an issue of the Essex Tribune.  Harlan was more an expert on esoteric developmental philosophy than any other.  Indeed it was him who first postulated the connections between the famous case of Victor de l'Aveyron and some lesser known lines from the Mad Arab.  Shortly after introducing the incidents to Dr. Harlan, an invitation from the Romanian consul on behalf of the kingdom and the disputed territory of note arrived summoning the esteemed professor to provide scientific insight on the situation.  There was a sense of urgency in the message which I did not detect until well after it had transpired.  A room aboard a steamer from Boston was secured to take Harlan to Nice where he would be transported by aeroplane to Czernowitz.  I was selected to accompany him to give record of our findings for the academic press.
   With not so much time enough to sublet the small room I leased near the university, we were asea.  As I was not so adept at the Romantic languages as Dr. Harlan, nearly half of my time on the vessel was spent honing these skills.  It was some consolation to find aboard a pair of sisters bound for France with fluency to match their wit.  As we passed through the Shoulders of Atlas, their attention waned from me to the delights of the Mediterranean air.  A bid my companions well as we debarked the ship and made for our next leg of the trip.  At the airfield, we found our transport to be much less spacious as we had anticipated, and were unable to take all of our supplies.  Dr. Harlan contacted a colleague to hold some of our belongings, mostly books, until our return.  In the end, we were left with a change of clothes, three bound notebooks, a handful of pencils, an ancient revolver the professor refused to part with, toiletries, shaving kits, and four texts which we agreed would be necessary for the diagnosis.  Additionally, I carried a timepiece and spectacles, and the good doctor our papers and a small notebook of pertinent translations from the Necronomicon. 
   After alighting in Czernowitz, myself only becoming ill once on the turbulent, tumbling flight from France, we were left waiting at the airfield for some hours after that dreadful flying contraption had gone on its way.  At some consternation, we inquired as to when we could expect the envoy to arrive from the government buildings.  The station master was not informed of any delays, and so we set out to the consulate.  Being a young and yet wild fallen kingdom, Bukovina had little in the way of modern convenience such as wires save between those former bastions of the old ways.  Upon arrival at the government offices, and after great delays, a small thin man with tousled hair and a Bavarian frame informed us that the services of the scientific community were no longer requested or welcome in the case.  From what little Romanian I could discern from either the tiny man or the tall, haughty Harlan, the feral boy had been taken for lost.  Indeed, upon inspection of a recent news article, which we had little access to on the high sea, it was noted that the child had been misplaced under mysterious circumstances.     Harlan's face oscillated from a sickly hue of despondency to the red fury of a powerless soul.  We were directed to a public house to spend the evening.  Weary from the journey, my mind was lost in an incalculable loss.  An opportunity of a lifetime had been felled before me.  Oh that I had known then what I know now. 
   Supping that evening before the fire of a decidedly impoverished public house dining room, Dr. Harlan made conversation with the locals as I sat resigned to my silence.  One of the locals, a ragged gypsy seemed to have caught the rapt attention of my professor.  I was well aware of the impure tricks these wandering dogs have been known to use, and I too became interested in the conversation for the sake of the waning sobriety of Dr. Harlan.  The gypsy was part of a merchant caravan that happened to pass a certain village along the twisting edge of a forest path which was known to all for being the former home of the beastly child.  As Harlan requested to ride along with the man, the gypsy began to casually take on a darker lupine appearance.  He told a tale of how the hamlet was cursed with the child, and how it would not stray from the forested home.  Harlan and myself both knew the wild tales members of these subhuman races would tell to each other in their ignorant savagery, but Dr. Harlan was intrigued by the notion.  Confident that the gypsy would have a hard time robbing us thanks to the revolver concealed near his breast, the professor proffered a handful of local currency to affect transport.  As expected, the bargaining began.  Such a dangerous stop along his trip would require a great deal more than we could offer.  A parlay was conducted.  Eventually it was settled that my timepiece would make for adequate fare.  I was hesitant to rid myself of the pocket watch, but I was assured I would be compensated once we returned to Miskatonic.
   The week of travel was surprising in how uneventful it was.  The caravan, while little more than a roving band of lice-ridden beggars and a few mules laden with trinkets, was mostly peaceful.  Yet as we arrived at the accursed village, the party began to murmur and look wary.  As far as superstitions go, I was surprised at the time at how serious these peoples were.  It seemed that even the beasts were raised in this nervous and frightful manner, whinnying a reluctance to approach.  It was in the outskirts that the train stopped and informed us of our arrival.  The wily dog who first made the deal with us gave a more wary look.  What before I found humorous about the murmuring quiet nervousness slowly gave way to a modicum of worry.
   Walking among the hovels, we were greeted by a sharp report of words as if they were fired with lead and wadding.  Indeed, the skeleton that issued it was holding an old musket which could very well have spoken for him.  Slowing our approach, we announced that we were here from the city to investigate the tales of the wild child in their midst.  The sunken pits beneath his eyes seem to tell an arduous tale of their own.  Before he answered, he seemed to inspect us without moving his gaze.  Perhaps he was using some unknown sense to evaluate us.  My hairs stood on end in the interminable silence.  Without change in his sullen expression, he turned and walked toward a small shack near the forest edge of the village.  Without giving command to my extremities, I found that my feet and begun to follow the twisted creature.  A sideways glance from Dr. Harlan silently gave me understanding that he too felt as if he was under some arcane spell. 
   The approaching shanty seemed strange among its fellows.  All of the houses had some sort of weed ridden garden before them, but this one was bare earth.  Each of the others had some sort of adjoining structure for livestock, yet all that was attached to this house was a crumpled mass of rotten boards, the memory of some other construction.  Our muted guide paused at the slanted decrepit portal to this house raised upon dead earth.  From the back of his head I could not tell if his jaw moved as he curtly grumbled in the local dialect, "Here,  In."
   I was the first to regain control of my limbs, and I was the one who opened the unadorned door to the place.  There was no light inside, and the shock from daylight would take time to correct.  Looking back upon the events now, I should have been perturbed by the lack of smoke from the chimney.  The cold darkness embraced me when the stench shocked me into reality.  My stomach heaved in reaction to the putrescence of decay and filth that shot out as squamous tentacles from the earthy dark.  A recollection from a life we all have long since abandoned came rushing into the fore of my mind.  This was the lair of some untold beast, and no spear or stone could ward off such monstrous terror.  Again, my legs moved of their own volition, but not in the same way as the obedient tread by the stygian boatman at the door.  It was curiosity in the face of fear, the sense that lead man from the jungle to the civilized being he is today, that led me on.  Harlan followed close behind with the bony man in tow.
   My eyes were still adjusting to the blackness of this wooden crypt when light burst forth from a window near the door as the man had thrown open the shutters.  A ray of light from the world outside landed on a huddled mass at the far wall.  Along the ray's path, it revealed fragments of an interior which must have been human at one point.  A small table with chairs, stained in a peculiar manner stood in the center of the room.  An old stone hewn stove in a noticeable state of disrepair was crumbled and scattered about one end of the room.  The floor was cluttered with earthenware, strips of fabric, and some lumps that I could only assume were a crude soap or candle.  And there at the very end of this beam of light, was the mass.  It was curled upon a pile of hay and cloth that was probably a functioning mattress in recent history with a chain that lead from some brown stub to the wreck that was once a stove.  The ragged pile stirred and a small eye looked up from knots of hair.
   There came such a wail from the beast that I was sure we had encountered monster summoned from hell or like some creature from the scribbled pages of that text by the Mad Arab.  So much for my passing judgment on the fearful gypsies.  I glanced behind me and saw Dr. Harlan, hand in his breast pocket, with a musket pointed at his head by the villager.  The monstrous banshee did not seem to stop as it bellowed on screeching.  Dr. Harlan's forearm muscles relaxed slightly and he drew his hand away from the pocket.  Accordingly, the musket was no longer pointed at him, though the suggestion of a threat still remained. 
   The old man reached into his tattered rags and produced a small knife from an embroidered sheath.  Walking over to the stove without so much as a change in his stare, he leaned down and prodded the rock pile to reveal a metal bar.  The bar was no doubt used for holding cookware above coals, but now it was affixed to a crude shackle leading over to the still screaming monster.  Leaning the musket in the crook between the chimney and the wall, he sat down at the shiny piebald table and grabbed a mound from under bowl on the ground.  Instantly, silence returned to the cabin.  Producing a large chunk of indistinct flesh, he began to cut into it with his knife.  A tap on my shoulder led me to glance at the previously cacophonous being chained in the room.  The appearance had suddenly shifted from that of a howling mass like some disheveled hound to likeness of a young dirty street urchin.  The boy's hair still tangled his features, and his dirty rags could give little indication of his health or age, but the eager eyes of a child were clearly visible, fixated on the slicing meat.  Our prize lay before us.  A sliver of meat, stringy with fat, was palmed to Dr. Harlan by the old man.  Mustering a face that would be more suited to a Mississippi steamer behind a flush, Harlan approached the boy.  The once terrifying specter recoiled at his approach.  Harlan turned over his palm to reveal meaty glob and the fixation returned, giving calm to a cornered beast.  Without approaching further, Harlan squatted before the boy, examined him from ten paces, then tossed the flesh in his direction.  Momentarily I was blinded to the consumption of raw near rotting flesh by the ease at which a professor in esoteric works transitioned to the calm demeanor of a lion tamer.
   As feeding the boy seemed to calm him into an ever more approachable state, I was taken outside by the old man.  His cold glance had not thawed, but I began that he was nothing to fear.  Perhaps the sudden arrival of strangers in this uninhabited village tossed his simple psyche into some fugue state, only functioning on base servile instinct.  I was led to another hut and it was indicated that I would be staying here.  The hovel was furnished in a very lived in manner.  Had there been a fire going I might have suspected that I was to be staying at an inhabited bed.  Our host left as I was laying out my other jacket and returned shortly with a misshapen white blob with a dancing flame atop the precipice, giving credence to my earlier assessment of the shape.   The old man took his leave and went back to check on his other guest.  I wrote a short entry in the log I was keeping on the journey by flickering light of the candle and started toward the door when I heard it.
   Issuing from the cabin was a great bellow of a scream, which I knew at once must have been Dr. Harlan.  I dashed to the source and was greeted by a confusing scene.  Harlan was holding his arm as a thin sanguine stream trickled down from some unknown malady.  The old man, suddenly with haste was loading shot into his musket.  I was informed from a deep barrel chest like I never expected how the child had bit him.  Harlan moved for one of the rags strewn on the floor to stop the bleeding.  In the excitement I stood glued to my post watching the scene play out.  Suddenly I realized that the old man intended to shoot the wild boy.  I pleaded with him to do no harm to the creature, when he finished packing the slug.  He drew the rifle and took aim, but not at the boy.
   The slats of the walls seem to shiver from the crack of the gunshot, and the wild boy returned unearthly screaming, undoing the day's work.  Dr. Harlan got up from the ground, dirt ground deep into his temple as he quickly ducked to avoid the bullet.  Without hesitating, the old man began to load another round.  He worked efficiently and silently yet without manufactured haste like a well skilled hunter preparing to take down another pig.  Dr. Harlan pulled the revolver out of his jacket, but in vain.  A tremor from the fresh arm wound loosened his grip and the weapon fell uselessly to the ground.  Helplessly stuck in a trance from the screaming and bellowing, my ears still ringing from the first shot, I was unable to find the will to react.  Harlan, realizing he could never shoot with his wounded arm, flew from the door as a scared rabbit might.  And his hunter, with sudden rapidity, stood in the empty doorframe behind him and leveled the rifle at the prey.  In that moment I was able to pull myself from cowardice and dive for the ground and for the key to salvation waiting there.  My body, fueled by fear and primal instinct flashed the barrel up toward the emotionless Nimrod in the half-moon light and pulled the trigger.
   The gun had fallen from my hands, but I was still laying on the ground when Dr. Harlan returned.  I had not even noticed the cessation of that awful screaming until I saw his face. 
   Perhaps there was some terrible presence in the eyes of that old man from the village.  Perhaps some ghastly haunt from the outer depths of another dimension had plagued him.  Perhaps when I killed that old man the spirit took a new vessel to afflict with melancholic disease.  Or perhaps in that moment when I made metal rend flesh asunder and tear that strained soul away from the world of the living I understood why his eyes were sunken and his speech minimal.  I can still remember the next few days, despite the trauma.  I remember how the child had reverted to the look of pleading hunger when we first tamed him as we dragged the corpse away.  I remember how, on our way to bury the evidence of the incident in the woods we found the pit.  I remember the way the stench of rotting humanity gagged Dr. Harlan, but not me.
   The bodies were piled in the pit in strange layers.  Those at the top were men in work clothes.  Each appeared to have been shot by gunfire as well as significant unidentifiable flesh wounds.  The bottom layer was mangled and shredded as if ripped apart by some pack of creatures.  Almost nothing was distinguishable except for the thin nightclothes each seemed to have been wearing.  The middle layer was the strangest however.  In my catatonic state, I am nearly sure that I could feel my eyes widen at the vision before me.  Were that I a medical man that I could describe the distorted musculature and bone of these beings.  I am nearly certain that no such creature has ever been described, save in tales told to frighten children or visions from otherworldly planes.
   Dr. Harlan continued digging among this inhuman refuse out of some morbid fascination.  He started giving me instructions for things to note down in the journals about the lack of necrophages and phrenological observations of the subhumans in the middle layer.  I just went to my cabin, now aware that it was the former home of one of those in the pile, and sat in the chair at the table.  I stared in silence at the wall, pondering the distant shores of oblivion, and drifting into dream.
   While the next few weeks were of scientific interest, there is little about them that hasn't already been said.  The findings were denied proper peer-review by the academic community due to the 'questionable mental state of the author' and 'lack of evidence' as everyone is likely aware.  Indeed it was the exaggerated reports in the popular press that sounded the death knell for any sort of formal inquiry.  While it is true I am guilty of murdering the unidentified old man in the village, I am not responsible for taking any other man's life.  The outrageous claims that the late Dr. Harlan was performing unethical experimentation on those villagers is patently false.  Such hastily drawn conclusions do nothing but tarnish the name and reputation of a prominent intellectual.  The refusal of the Kingdom of Romania and the Duchy of Bukovina to acknowledge the invitation of myself and Dr. Harlan to the area is evidence of knowing government obfuscation of the truth.  I have attested before God and man that the events which occurred on the night of the full moon are true and accurate despite the mental anguish from those traumatic days.
   The boy in the hut had remained confined there in chains due to aggressive outbursts, especially after durations of hunger.  Dr. Harlan had decided that feeding was to occur only once per day to provide a method for reinforcement of behaviors in the feral child.  Our sessions consisted primarily of examining the response of the boy to new stimuli and attempting to elicit speech patterns.  Naturally, such work would take a significant amount of time, and we were looking forward to the return of the next trading caravan to secure passage with the subject to more suitable conditions.  No effort was made to attempt contact with other communities, as the only settlement we knew of was outside of a day's ride from the village.  There were no pack animals in the village, though there was evidence that some had been there in recent memory.  In fact, there was no livestock in the village, our sustenance was supplied by stores we had found in the village of preserved vegetables and meats.  The vegetable matter was not acceptable reward fodder for the boy.  I only observed him eat meat.  Our theory at the time was the manner in which the boy was raised in the wild, possibly by some native canid, making him unaccustomed to consuming plant life.
   The morning of the fateful day began with a short session with the boy before breakfast.  This was followed by discussion of possible results of the previous day's work.  Discussion was primarily in one direction.  Though my voice had returned to me, I was still taken by an ill disposition which kept me in quite a sullen demeanor.  After recording the results in the dwindling margins of the remaining notebook, the study and training continued.  That day we were particularly interested in physical development of the boy.   Dr. Harlan estimated that he was approximately twelve years of age.  Due to malnutrition and questionable heritage, this number may be woefully incorrect.  We were particularly stymied by significant growths of androgenic hair which we had seemingly overlooked during earlier studies.
   The boy became increasingly agitated during the course of the day.  I became worried that we had been pushing him too hard to produce results before our return.  Dr. Harlan seemed to be growing frustrated as well.  His explanations were becoming terse and he seemed near the limit of his capacity for kindness.  I willingly stepped in to interact with the savage to prevent any regrettable behavior toward a live specimen caused by mere frustration.  By the time the evening had arrived, the professor still seemed upset, and we decided to sup and take a break from the stress of training what may be an untrainable boy.  The professor procured the food from the larder in the nearest shack.  He chose a rather spartan meal of the drying meats.
   Part way through the dinner is when the screaming began.  We had grown accustomed to crying and wailing from the boy in the wrecked hovel.  Occasionally after leaving him alone in the room to attend to our needs, he would cry out in such a way to convince us something was wrong.  We had learned to ignore it, understanding that this attention seeking behavior was to be expected from an unmannered wild creature, human or otherwise.  We continued our dinner, taking no note of the sounds as they seemed to grow more pained and anguished.  Night was soon upon us, and the weather promised a well lit night by the luminous white orb in the sky as soon as the few passing clouds had gone by.  The crescendo of anguished wails coming from the hut nearest the forest began to take a more sinister tone.  New tones were added which hinted of snarling like some ravenous beast. 
   Harlan could stand no more.  He took a candle and a slice of meat with him to comfort the monster next door.  His present state was not as a caring father, rather as a bedraggled ogre.  His frustration was getting the better of him as it all does for us from time to time.  I sat resigned to let him work out his frustrations as he needed with the boy while I enjoyed the time alone with my dinner.  He began to yell incoherently from the house with the boy.  For a moment I considered what dreadful fate he was meeting, whipping the poor whelp in wrath only to be set upon by the chained beast which had bit him those many days ago.  After his yells turned to the same sort of pained snarling, I realized he was only mocking the jailed child.  As cruel as it may have been, it was better than what my increasingly active imagination would have me believe.  I took the free moment to steal away to the larder to scour the pantry for some vegetable portion Harlan may have missed in his haste.
   In that dark place I stirred amongst the drying flesh harvested from some unknown local boar.  It was actually a fine meat, although I can't say I can place the flavor to anything from my own soil.  There in the stores I found plentiful stored grains and tubers.  When I was almost finished selecting the ingredients to go into a crude porridge, I heard a sound quite different from the others. 
   My ears pricked and the hairs on the nape of my neck shot to attention.  There are certain sounds among the most primal memories of man which elicit instantaneous response.  This rasped howl which was formed from some snarled consonant is the sound of the beasts that come in the night.  Soon, there was a change in the other yells.  The same blood curdling bellow I had witnessed when Dr. Harlan was attacked that first night issued forth.  This time, though I admit my craven feet betrayed me momentarily, I was much quicker to respond.  Harlan's yell turned into an altogether more frightening scream, the likes of which are difficult to describe.  His scream was stuttered by glottal pauses and growls.  As I dashed toward the hut, unburdened by previous notions of fear, I heard the report of the first gunshot.  Three more snapped out before I could make it to the hut. 
   Before me stood, in the middle of the room, a most shocking image of Dr. Harlan.  His face was reddened from the previous shouting, and sweat glistened on every surface of exposed skin.  In the moment of his fear he was incredibly imposing.  Perhaps I was hunched down in fright, but he seemed to tower taller than before.  His hat, fallen to the ground, left in its stead a shock of greasy brown hair, long and unkempt from the time away from civilization.  His jaw was clenched with muscles such that it seemed to stretch forth like some hellhound.  He held the revolver before him as he fired the last shot in the five-round cylinder.  I dreaded to look further into the room, knowing the corpse of the boy I would see.  I paused momentarily as he reached to the table for the candle and threw it toward where the body of the boy would be.  Only then did I hear the primal growl and snap of the terrible night thing that lurked within.  A new musky scent accompanied the snapping, maddening sounds.  I could feel the heat as the flame took to the dried hay on the floor serving as a mattress.  The orange light played against the other walls.  It danced over the crumbling stove as the bar holding the chain was strained by some force with the strength of several men.  The glittering flame glanced across the dark brown stains on the piebald table and the new red stains it had acquired.  The growling turned into otherworldly screeching.  It was as if something was trying to tear through from the other side.  Gathering my nerve I began to poke my head through the doorway and toward that inferno with the thrashing maw of some abomination within.  I only saw the black figure for a moment.  The hair covering its body were curling in the flame.  It screeched in pain and terror as the tugs on his chains became more and more urgent as each of his hairs began to set alight and curl in upon themselves.  The scent of burning flesh overwhelmed me as much as the impossible sight, and I recoiled in horror.
   As I recovered my senses, I again focused on the deranged Dr. Harlan.  His muscles flexed under his stretched and sagging skin, tearing itself open and revealing sprouts of gray hair underneath pink muscle tissue.  The hair was bursting forth from under this thinly stretched fleshy veil.  His nose, jutted further toward me as his phalanges grew  more twisted and sinister before my eyes.  The gray spines eventually poked through the face of the man I had spent so much time with these past few months.  As the blood from his self inflicted emergence dripped from his lips, these new haunches raised revealing growth of such terrible fangs, I went beyond such fear that I had known in my life.  And when those eyes regained focus and the slits looked deep into my soul, I could not stop myself from becoming a monster myself.  The fire had spread to ancient table and chairs, rags across the floor began to blacken.  The walls and roof were nearly aflame themselves.  That is when I pulled the door shut tight and held it.
   I could feel the monster, still somewhat human trying to work the latch with his cumbersome gray paws.  Giving up, he growled as he dug into the flimsy wood of the door.  As he did so, those enraged snarls turned to howls and wails of suffering.  The roof had been fully consumed by the flames, and the dry thatch other buildings were beginning to catch.  I held the door fast as my hands were screaming in agony to release.  The noises inside eventually turned to fainter and fainter whimpers as bubbled flesh of my palms finally slipped from the latch.  I could not move, and the fire closed in around me.  I succumbed to the smoke, as soon as I was confident that nothing could be heard in that little shack besides the crackling of blackened wood and the roar of a fire.


   I was in France when I came to my senses.  The story, to the best of my recollection, while I was out was that I was saved from the flames by the fortunate arrival of the gypsy caravan.  While I appeared to be in good health, I was taken back to Czernowitz in some sort of delirium.  Doctors in the city could not find any major illness outside of some temporary damage to my lungs.  The gypsy remembered our story, and took me to the consulate.  From there I was sent back to Nice by ground service.  I had been retrieved by the colleague we had previously stowed our possessions with during the earlier voyage.  There I was able to recuperate before returning by liner to the Miskatonic, where my reports promptly led me to be locked in the asylum.
   While the health department maintains that I am still 'profoundly disturbed', after seven years of treatment I am now considered sane enough to 'be a contributing member of society.'  Few actually believe me, and my attempts at corroborating my story have met with resistance due to recent upheaval in the region of interest.  I fear that what was uncovered in the town near the forest will forever be lost to time.  Perhaps it is best this way, but I cannot sit idly by and let others tarnish the name of that good professor, who was tragically lost in the flames of hell.


Offline keyboardia1

  • Posts: 109
Emma and the wolf
« Reply #46 on: Tue, 27 October 2015, 04:55:12 »
„Wait!“ Emma could barely hold her excitement. „You‘re an actual, real werewolf?“
„Yes.“ He sighed, and picked a fluff from his jacket.
„But that‘s amazing! You know how many people would kill to become an unstoppable mythical creature like a werewolf?“
„Oh, for ****s sake, Emma! Do you have any idea how that **** messed with my life? I own a god damn waxing salon, you know that. Do you have any idea how terrible this is for my business?“
„But you only turn into a werewolf during full moon, right?“
„Proper werewolf? Yes. But it messes with your body, even when there is no full moon. My body hair got darker and it‘s impossible to get rid of it. I wax it and it just comes back a few seconds later.“
„Oh, yeah i‘ve noticed your new beard. But if it‘s any consolation, it really suits you. Makes you even more handso...“
„Yeah, well“, he interrupted her, „but it‘s terrible for my business. Nobody wants to get his hair removed by a guy like me. I‘ve already lost most of my regular customers to Mrs Tang‘s Salon in the Harbour Street. And i can‘t even blame them. I mean, look at me. Look at me, Emma! Getting waxed by a hairy dude like me is like seeing a dentist with bad teeth. Nobody ****ing wants that!“
„I‘m so sorry to hear that.“
„Oh well, at least it improved my private life.“
„How so?“
„Well, i was looking for help online and and somehow ended up in this ‚bear‘ community.“
„Bears? I thought you said werewolf?“
„Bears as in: really hairy gay guys. Anyway, i‘ve met Kevin there and he‘s the love of my life. He‘s just so great and cuddly and he accepts me the way i am.“
„That – that is great, but ...“ Emma looked at him, at the dark night sky and back to him. „If you‘re gay, why did you ask me for a date down by the river?“

„Well, a wolf gotta eat!“
« Last Edit: Tue, 27 October 2015, 07:50:52 by keyboardia1 »

Offline happyturtlee

  • Posts: 45
  • Location: Columbus, OH
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #47 on: Tue, 27 October 2015, 22:15:22 »
The Boss wanted werewolf carcasses. I didn’t know why, but if the man kept my family fed, I didn’t ask questions.

I shot them right through the heart. The Boss was explicit about preserving the heads and to be honest, I liked admiring these beasts after they’re slain. Coarse black fur juxtaposed against pure white teeth.  Never a hint of fear in their beady yellow eyes even upon death. They’re beautiful creatures and it’s too bad my bullets tore through their flesh so easily.

Every month, I saw a full moon out, grabbed my rifle, and brought werewolf bodies back to the company. That day wasn’t any different.

After finishing the job, I snuck upstairs to kiss my wife and kids good night. Usually, their peaceful slumber calmed my violent adrenalin. That and the six-pack before bed kept me sane. But that night, my heightened senses never subsided.

My head was pulsing and that’s when I noticed warm blood dripping onto our newly furnished hardwood floors. I saw the gash on my upper thigh and before I could even process what happened, I turned.

My heart was beating like it was trying to escape my body. Hair grew as needles piercing through every point on my skin. My bones deformed and reformed until I had painfully transformed into the very beasts I had studied so well to kill.

I had to run. They would be coming for me. A bullet through the heart and my head for the Boss.

It's been a month now. They’ve killed my family in search of me and I've killed in search of the Boss. Their best hunter in the body of a perfect killing machine. The full moon is tomorrow and I live solely for vengeance -- the day I can sink my claws into his fragile flesh. I don't know his intentions but it seems like werewolves’ heads have been harvested for plastic trinkets. I heard he harvested gorillas before werewolves. I'm closing in on him... I can feel it.

They say werewolves never truly die even when they’re beheaded. Cursed to stare into empty space but plotting a violent return. I’m not afraid of death. Bro, I’m coming for your head.
« Last Edit: Tue, 27 October 2015, 22:28:17 by happyturtlee »

Offline maxpegasus

  • Posts: 77
  • Location: Ohio, USA
  • The search goes ever on and on...
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #48 on: Tue, 27 October 2015, 22:27:30 »
The Boss wanted werewolf carcasses. I didn’t know why, but if the man kept my family fed, I didn’t ask questions.

I shot them right through the heart. The Boss was explicit about preserving the heads and to be honest, I liked admiring these beasts after they’re slain. Coarse black fur juxtaposed against pure white teeth.  Never a hint of fear in their beady yellow eyes even upon death. They’re beautiful creatures and it’s too bad my bullets tore through their flesh so easily.

Every month, I saw a full moon out, grabbed my rifle, and brought werewolf bodies back to the company. That day wasn’t any different.

After finishing the job, I snuck upstairs to kiss my wife and kids good night. Usually, their peaceful slumber calmed my violent adrenalin. That and the six-pack before bed kept me sane. But that night, my heightened senses never subsided.

My head was pulsing and that’s when I noticed warm blood dripping onto our newly furnished hardwood floors. I saw the gash on my upper thigh and before I could even process what happened, I turned.

My heart was beating like it was trying to escape my body. Hair grew as needles piercing through every point on my skin. My bones deformed and reformed until I had painfully transformed into the very beasts I had studied so well to kill.

I had to run. They would be coming for me. A bullet through the heart and my head for the Boss.

It's been a month now. They’ve killed my family in search of me. I survive because I know all their tactics and I’ve been slowly gathering information. The full moon is tomorrow and I live solely for vengeance -- the day I can sink my claws into the Boss' fragile flesh. I don't know his intentions but it seems like werewolves’ heads have been harvested for plastic trinkets. I heard he harvested gorillas before werewolves.

They say werewolves never truly die even when they’re beheaded. Cursed to stare into empty space but plotting a violent return. I’m not afraid of death. Bro, I’m coming for your head.

MIND BLOWN.  :eek: :thumb:

Offline linkshine

  • * Destiny Supporter
  • Posts: 173
  • Location: Little Rock, AR
  • If you wanna b my lover, u gotta get w/ my friends
Re: Lycan Giveaway Time!
« Reply #49 on: Thu, 29 October 2015, 10:56:42 »

Best werewolf song.