2 Chapter 1: The Special Curse

Phillip had been walking home from his high school, furious at them for what they had done to him. He was a typical jock, who was handsome but he was also different in that, he had a good personality. Phil had short black hair and His face looked like it was chiseled from stone, including a cleft in his chin, and a long, thin nose. His skin was a dark; bronze tan and he had a smile which was recognizably charming and bright. He could make girls faint by just looking in their direction and piercing their souls with his green eyes. That night it was chilly out so he was wearing his school's jacket with an enormous S for Saint Francis' Preparatory School. He pulled a cigarette out of the left pocket of his jeans and lit it. He needed it because the previous day had been an enormous pain to him. No words could accurately describe the anger, welled inside Phil's body.

"This is bull; they can't kick me from the team. I'm the best player they could ever dream of having; hell, they'll just lose when I'm not there to save the day. God knows they needed me then!" Phil whispered under his breath. The only thing that seemed to make him feel better was his date. He just got out of a wonderful evening with a very beautiful girl. He smiled, staring at the ground until a strange noise broke his concentration. Off in the distance, down a long and empty street a wolf was howling to the moon. The road he was on said Charles Avenue. It was covered in rust and barely hung on with one old bolt. Trees lined this street towards the left, which masked a town park. Along the right side, stood apartment buildings, all of which were pitch black inside. There was a long iron fence which connected to two big fence doors. The park's name printed with thick regal lettering: Philadelphia Park. There was a rustling of leaves, cracking of twigs and hushed voices off in the distance. Phil gazed down at the gate for a second, trying to get what the words were that left their mouths.

He stuffed both hands in the pockets of his jacket, the cigarette burning brightly in his mouth. Deep inside Phil's head, a scared voice yelled at him. It screamed, "MOVE PHIL! GET AWAY FROM THERE, IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!" But out of curiosity, he crossed the street, and leaned towards the cool iron gates. His hands grasped the metal, sending chills down his arms into his spine. There was a second where he thought he'd just turn and walk away. His house was so close; just down the street a few more blocks. His head jerked to the right as he stared down at the lit houses that lined the road. "Come on Phil; get a grip on yourself alright? You're already late; your curfew was eleven, not one." He whispered. It was then that two gasps came out from beside him. He turned his head slowly and looked deeply into the darkness.

There was a loud rush of wind blowing at him, causing the fence gate to fly open, and then close. Phil stepped back and fell from the drop off of the sidewalk. He went butt first onto the road, bruising his tail bone. Phil propped himself up with his hands. He refused to stare anywhere else but at the creepy gate. Just beyond his vision he could vaguely make out darkened figures scurrying in the bushes. "God Phil, come back down to reality!" he said, as he got to his feet. It was clear that these people were there for a reason. Phil went to leave when a woman's voice cracked the night like a whip. It sounded so broken and raspy that it was hard to make out. "Hello darling, are you going somewhere tonight?" Phil swallowed hard and answered in a shaky voice. "Y-yeah, I'm going home; what's it to you?" He replied, straining his eyes to try and get a look on her. The woman laughed so high pitched that it made the hairs on Phil's neck stand on end.

"Come here Phillip." She said to him. Fear struck Phil's heart at the sound of his name. "H-how do you know my name woman?" he yelled into the park. It felt so awkward and he knew what it must look like for him to be barking into the night. "Oh darling, I know a whole lot about you. For instance; you're a senior at Saint Francis' Prep, right?" Phil's eyes shot open at this, but then sense came to him. "Do you work there woman?" he replied. The woman laughed once again, this time even shriller than normal. He wiped sweat from his forehead and began to breathe heavy. As if the woman could sense his imminent fear, she talked a bit more intimidating towards Phil. "Young man, come a little closer; NOW!" Phil began to feel terrified and couldn't explain why. He turned and tried to run but slammed into an enormous hairy wall.

He fell onto his back, looking down and almost yelled, at the site of two long hairy claw-like feet. His gaze ran up the legs that were attached to it which were as big around as trees. And up to a torn up torso that was rippling with muscle and covered with a thick black coat of fur. He stopped for a second, taking a moment for fear to subside but it never did. He knew what he was looking at but couldn't believe it was real. Both of the creature's arms were long and bulging with muscle, which ended with two claws the size of professional basketballs.

Phil gulped loudly and finally got a full glance of the creature's head. It looked like a wolf's face, with a long snout and one inch long, razor sharp fangs. His eyes were baseball sized, glowing bright yellow. Phil slowly got up to his feet, trying not to anger the creature and began to back away from it towards the gate. Just as he bumped into the metal the old woman cackled.

She reached through the gaps and wrapped her frail arms around Phil's chest. "AH, let go of me!" Phil yelled. "Let me go, please!" No matter how much he pleaded, she would not loosen her grip. "Silly boy, why would I let a young, strong man like yourself, just run free without paying a price?" Her hot breath ran over Phil's neck, making him shudder. He tried to pull away from her but something held him rooted to the ground. The creature began to walk towards him, making pot holes in the concrete below his feet. There was loud, lumbering breathing shooting out of its mouth. He was nearly five feet away now, and continued to walk towards Phil.

"WHAT; WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Phil yelled out loudly. His voice echoed down the street and through the air. Dozens of bats screeched and flew across a bright full moon; that's when it hit him. Phil looked back at the creature as his chest began to hurt, "You… you're a werewolf aren't you? B-but I didn't think they existed." He tried harder to pull away from the woman, but she would not relax her grip. The werewolf was now a couple of feet away.

His breath was hotter than the woman's, and blew his dark locks around. He coughed and began to tear up, which was hard to do to him. "P-please, I'm b-b-begging you." He sniffed towards the sidewalk. It was then that he noticed the woman's left hand was near his mouth, so he resorted to savagery. Phil bit down hard on the woman's hand, until blood poured out of it. "OUCH! Why you..." she cried out. Phil took this opportunity to run as fast as he could away from the werewolf and was a half a block away when he heard the woman yell again. "GET HIM HAROLD!"

Then he heard unmistakably a low rumbling voice reply. "I'm on it." He took a right, running in between dozens of brick buildings. All of which were darkened, "Of course they're all sleeping! Come on, I'm almost home." Phil told himself. His house was just down the street at the very end. It was a white bricked house which was two stories high. He was only a few houses away when he heard howling from behind him, which shook the ground. Phil stopped short, just below the first step of his house's staircase. He just needed to climb up the steps and get inside, but why couldn't he move? He prayed that his foot would just lift up from the invisible glue. The werewolf was running down the street and was nearly there. "Come on, come on…MOVE!" He pulled at his left leg, trying to reanimate the dead nerves. It was too late; Phil was able to turn around just in time as the werewolf lunged at him, sinking his teeth deep into his collar bone.

It crunched painfully under the pressure, and blood ran over the steps, creating a red river that streaked down the sidewalk. He felt faint, and whimpered while the werewolf continued to sink its teeth into him. "Alright Harold, let go of him. He's had more than enough time for the infection to course his veins." The old woman ordered the werewolf. Phil looked into the yellow eyes, gasping as his whole right arm lay limp on the ground. There was something different about the creature's eyes now, something warm; loving even. The werewolf allowed the old woman to come up to Phil, who was holding some old necklace from her right arm.

When she got closer to Phil, he could see a symbol that was printed onto the old dark metal. It was a skull with a circle of dots surrounding it. The eyes glowed red with rubies and the dots were made of onyx stone shards. "W-what are you doing?" Phil asked. "Shush child, you are about to become the third member of this illustrious army! It's a group that aims on making the world and human race more superior; The Lycanthropy Army!. Just hold still so I can perform the ritual." She placed the pendant around Phil's neck. She then looked back towards the werewolf and nodded. He returned it then turned and ran down the road, out of view. "Oh I call onto you, spirits of the dark! I call you tonight to help guide this young child through the early stages of the transformation period."

"Phillip Warburton is a capable and willing young man who is now infected with the disease. Let the healing of the wound put onto him be immediate; spare his life. In return, he will transform tonight. Please my dark lords, help this young child. He is dying as we speak and his time is almost up. Help him and help bring the Lycanthropy Army closer to achieving pure perfection!" Once the woman stopped talking, a crack of lightning flashed across the nearly cloudless sky, right through the ones that covered the moon. Like a hot knife through butter, the clouds separated and allowed the moon to shine brightly over Phil's body. It was then that an intense, roaring pain formed in his stomach. He lurched forwards, clasping both arms over his abdomen, grunting hard. "W-WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" Phil yelled out. He then jolted backwards, exposing his torso which was beginning to bubble and stretch away from him.

His yells pierced the air as his rib bones snapped and stretched his skin tightly while they popped out. Phil's eyelids flew open as he watched his stomach beginning to grow thicker and hairier. The pain shot down his legs, forcing them to become bigger, stretching the seams of his jeans, until they ripped down the sides. He flipped onto his hands and knees groaning while his feet burst through his shoes, forming into large clawed feet. His back arched painfully, allowing his spine to grow, almost breaking the skin covering it. He screamed as his arms tore through his jacket at the same time as his back. His spine thickened more and more, breaking through the back of his jacket, until it fell completely off. He stood up, again flying back, grabbing onto the sides of his head.

A heating sensation surged to Phil's mouth, making it snap and allowing long sharp teeth to protrude out. "How does it feel Phillip?" the woman asked. He turned towards her, with malice in his eyes. "Ugh, h-how do y-you think it f-feels?!" He shut his eyes tightly, wincing from the fire that coursed his skull. He could feel his jaw beginning to grow outwards, longer and thicker by the moment. It was only seconds before a snout formed. He reached up to try and hold his ears back while they became pointy and long.

But his hands cracked and elongated to huge claws. His nails grew pointy, tearing the skin around the cuticles. Hair ran all over Phil's body followed by even more muscles. Phil could feel his legs getting longer and stomach, as well as his arms. The last things to change were his eyes, as the green irises got lighter and turned yellow. He stared up at the sky; the moon reflecting off of the vein filling eyeballs. Finally a long tail shot out of his butt signifying the end of the transformation.

It was then that Phil began to feel alive. He gazed down at the woman and instead of hurting her, he felt love towards her. "Will you behave Phillip?" Phil nodded in return. "Good boy. Follow me, your training starts tonight." Phil followed the woman, away from his house, away from his torn clothes on the doorstep; away from the blood pool that caressed the pendant that he once wore. They walked down the street and took a left, to begin Phil's training as a soldier; a soldier of the Lycanthropy Army.