Chapter 4: First Transformation
The shed smelled like old oil, rust, and fear.
Tyler paced inside it like a caged animal, because that's exactly what he was. Mason had reinforced the place with steel bars, heavy chains, and a tranquilizer gun on standby. The shed was built for storing scrap, but tonight, it was for him.
"I still think this is a bad idea," Mason said from the other side of the door, holding a tablet loaded with vitals and data. His voice trembled despite the calm he tried to fake. "If the system's right, you've only got a few minutes before your transformation begins"
Tyler's skin itched. His veins felt like they were boiling beneath the surface. "We don't have a better plan at this point, lets hope this place can hold me."
"I could give you another large sedative."
"You said it might kill me if you give me more than that."
"I said it might stop the transformation."
Tyler shot him a bitter smile. "Same thing."
Outside, the moon crested above the trees—full, massive, and cold.
The system blinked to life in his vision:
[Full Moon Detected.]
[Transformation Imminent.]
[Warning: Control Risk – High.]
[Engaging Survival Protocol.]
Then the pain hit.
It started at the spine—twisting, stretching, cracking like a bone being forcibly unbroken. He screamed as muscle tore and reformed, bones rearranged, nails extended into claws. Mason's voice echoed from behind the door, but Tyler couldn't hear it over the sound of his own body breaking itself open.
The last thing he saw before blacking out was the reinforced door denting outward, and his own reflection in the steel—eyes glowing Yellow.
The steel door gave way with a howl of twisting metal. A monstrous shape crashed through it, trailing broken chains and splinters of the ruined shed.
Tyler's transformation had completed—whether he liked it or not.
He stood over seven feet tall, muscles rippling beneath his thick grey fur. His elongated claws dug into the dirt, steam rising off his back in the cold night air. His eyes blazed a feral yellow—burning with rage, pain, and something else. Hunger.
Mason, watching from the tree line, whispered, "Oh god…"
But the beast didn't see him. Not yet.
With a large long howl that made the birds flee their nests and in the distance dogs begin howling, Tyler leapt into the forest—running, crashing through undergrowth, bounding over logs. His mind was a chaos of noise and instinct. The man was buried beneath the monster.
Elsewhere in the woods – 01:32 AM
Selene crouched on a ridge, watching her drone feed.
There it was again.
A distorted heat signature—humanoid, but too large, moving too fast.
She snapped the wrist-mounted screen closed and moved. Her footfalls were ghost-silent. Her breath slow and controlled. The forest around her felt wrong. The trees were too still. The air too sharp.
Then came the howl.
It rolled through the trees like thunder, raw and desperate. Not a wolf. Not human. Something between.
Selene's lips tightened.
She drew her silver-edged short blade and holstered her pistol with silver hollow-point rounds. The knife felt more personal tonight.
"Time to end this," she whispered.
Deeper in the forest
Tyler tore through the woods like a living storm. The system flickered in his mind, but it was distant—like trying to read through a fog.
His body moved with terrifying speed. He saw everything—the flutter of bats overhead, the worms squirming under the earth, the breath of deer a hundred meters away.
He smelled something. Blood and metal.
Someone was close a girl, a woman. Who ever, whatever She was close.
Instinct told him she was a threat. That she was prey. That she needed to die.
Selene stepped into the clearing—quiet, focused.
Her amber-gold eyes swept the treeline. She didn't breathe.
Then—
Branches snapped above. A massive shadow dropped down, landing hard in front of her and skidding through the earth in a feral crouch.
She didn't scream. She moved.
Silver flashed. Tyler lunged.
Claws clanged against metal. Her blade caught his swipe, redirecting it, but the force hurled her off her feet. She hit the dirt, rolled, came up again—breathing hard but controlled.
"What the hell are you…" she muttered.
He charged.
She fired twice—hollow-point silver rounds. One hit his shoulder, another his leg. He roared, staggering, but didn't fall. Blood sprayed—but the wounds began to close. Slowly.
Selene's eyes widened.
"Shit. You're new."
The monster paused, chest heaving. Eyes locked on hers.
Something flickered inside them. Recognition. Pain.
Tyler—some part of him—was still in there.
Selene held her blade at the ready, face unreadable. "I don't know who you are. But I need to end you.. Your a monster and i hunt monsters!
The creature growled—but didn't pounce.
Instead, he turned—sprinting off into the trees.
Selene hesitated, then chased after him.
The Chase
She couldn't keep up. He was faster, stronger, unburdened by hesitation. Branches slapped her face. Her breath tore in and out. But she had to see where he went.
They crashed through a burned-out grove, past a rusted water tower, and up a small ridge of jagged stone. At the top, Tyler stopped.
The moonlight hit him directly. His shadow stretched long and monstrous. He looked out over the valley—and howled again.
Selene raised her pistol with trembling fingers.
She aimed.
And lowered it.
His posture had changed. No longer aggressive. No longer enraged.
He was… lost.
She whispered, "Who are you?"
A second later, Tyler leapt off the ridge and vanished into the dark.