A Howl in the Night

[Item activated: Change race: True Werewolf (Hellsing Ultimate)

Warning. Using this item results in irreversible changes to the target's fundamental biology. As a result, target may experience a temporary drop of control over their motor skills as well as any supernatural abilities they may possess. Proceed?]

[YES/NO]

"Well, nothing I didn't expect." Avior read through the message again and took note of the peculiar phrasing. "Target, eh? Interesting."

He knew what was most likely to come, so Avior cleared the place of all the twigs, branches, and stones, and made a cushion of fallen leaves. He laid down and confirmed his choice. "Let's get this over with."

The process was agonizing. The pain was bearable, much worse was the general feeling of unpleasantness that overcame him, matching the feverish heat that took hold of his body. His muscles cramped up one after another, and soon he was flailing and twitching uncontrollably. Steam began to rise from his body. It became thicker and thicker until it turned into silvery-white mist, which soon wafted through the forest in a radius of a few dozen meters. Next came the itch. A whole colony of fire ants seemingly decided to make their nest inside him and were now happily deconstructing his body piece by piece. And as it disintegrated, the mist took the place of the missing pieces, like molten metal being poured into a mold.

Avior didn't know how long the process lasted. When the dizziness subsided, he only turned over and threw up.

[Race change successful. Please be careful during the adaptation period.]

"It better be successful," Avior groaned. "I really hope this was the last time. I am sick of this shit, literally."

Once he got back on his feet, he carefully stretched and twisted to check out the changes that had taken place.

The first thing he noticed was his overall compactness. His muscles had become more compressed, making him look scrawnier in his loose clothes than he already was. When he flexed his muscles, he could feel the strength they were capable of.

Avior walked over to a nearby tree with the circumference of an adult's thigh and executed a simple round kick. With a loud crack, he felled the tree. Avior didn't even feel a thing.

"Yepp. Definitely got the superstrength and super-physique," he said to himself as he dodged the falling tree.

His head filled with all the ways he could take advantage of those two abilities alone. Simultaneously, he played with the log, trying to kick it up into his hands. Not paying proper attention, he used too much force, consequently failed to catch the log, and as he fumbled with the wood, he slammed it against the side of his head with full force, causing it to splinter once again.

"Owww-FUCK," cursed Avior. "That hurt. Wasn't this supposed to come with super-reflexes?"

Since he clearly needed time to get accustomed to his new powers, Avior decided to postpone the summoning of a familiar. One thing at a time.

"Might as well use the way back to test the superspeed."

As soon as he was back on the road, he chose a nice straight section and went into starting position. He pushed off.

'…Why is there a tree in the way?'

Thanks to his new, enhanced reflexes kicking in, he avoided a collision with the unexpected obstacle. Unfortunately, while doing so, he overcompensated, and nearly crashed into another tree. That one he evaded only, because he tripped over his feet, fell, and plowed through a few bushes.

"… I have to get a new hobby. Having painful experiences takes too high a toll on my morale."

He decided he had enough for one night and just walked back to the orphanage, normally.

Back in his room, a quick examination in the light revealed his clothes to be badly damaged. Ripped and torn, covered with dirt, moss, and grass stains, they were far from presentable anymore.

"This looks like someone kicked a tree and rolled through the forest at high speeds. What idiot would do such a thing?" Bugged out, Avior just threw the rags into the hardest-to-clean corner in his room, the corner of the small gap behind the closet. Because the staff looked at that corner maybe once a year, it was the perfect place to hide stuff. He planned to fix them before someone missed them. With a bit of luck, he could even magic them back together.

But first, he would need to get used to his body, again. Waking up in the body of a child was still a surreal experience on its own, and with his new superpowers, the risk of accidents skyrocketed. To prevent these, Avior made a rough plan on how he wanted to spend his days.

During the day, he would be quite limited in his options. Get up, school or chores, followed by supervised free-time, back to bed. A few breaks to eat here and there, but that was the basic schedule for the orphans.

Avior decided to brand himself as a bookworm. With his mental age, he didn't feel comfortable, or able, to try and integrate with this group of kids. He would just keep it at the bare minimum to go undetected. This way he could also brush up on his knowledge.

If he could get access to the local library that is. During the night he planned to exercise and train. He had enough innate self-control to not break cups or break down doors, but when he tried a (for normal people) more strenuous activity, he was prone to overdo it. Like unintentionally decapitating a scarecrow a two-hundred meters away during a throwing competition among the children. And while the children thankfully didn't notice and just thought they lost his stone, it was clear to him, that he had a problem to fix.

*************************

Avior lay in his bed and listened. Nothing. He checked the cheap little alarm clock next to his bed. Thanks to the sparse moonlight shining through the clouds and his enhanced sight, he had no problems reading the dial. 11:03 p.m. Everyone's asleep by now. He carefully opened his window and jumped out, sneaking through the garden until he reached the dirt track. Finally out of sight of any potential onlookers, he drew a deep breath of the fresh night air. It was cool. The last traces of summer were gone and autumn had taken its place.

Following the nightly breeze, Avior sprinted toward the forest. It had been a month since he changed into a werewolf, and by now he had a good grasp on his physical enhancements. He was not quite combat-proficient yet, but he would be able to hold his own in a brawl. Probably more than that considering his strength. At least, he wouldn't need to worry about accidentally outperforming heavy machinery during P.E. class.

Arriving at the forest, Avior slowed down and continued at a normal pace. While enjoying the walk, he thought about what he wanted to do tonight. The training regime over the last month consisted mostly of simple bodyweight exercises and Thai Chi forms to train body control. Now that he reached a satisfactory level, he decided to take the next big step.

Avior went off-road through the underbrush and, after a while, arrived at his new favorite training spot. It was an old, pre-industrial quarry. From what he heard, the locals used to break stone here mostly for their own needs, with only a small portion being exported. It was slowly forgotten when they found iron and the mine became the main source of income for the town. Until that too was shut down, because importing ore from overseas became cheaper than mining it here.

During all those years the forest had begun to reclaim the quarry, but on the exposed stony ground plants had a hard time growing. Even over a century of complete disregard couldn't change that fact. A thin layer of pebbly soil had formed, but only a few trees and bushes managed to colonize this new ground. Even the oldest trees were barely as thick as a man's thigh and no challenge to Avior's might. He had cleared out a circular area of roughly eight meters in diameter. Just enough for what he had planned for tonight.

He started with warm-up exercises to get in the mood. Jumping jacks, push-ups, squats, and pull-ups on a nearby tree branch. Next came a bit of stretching. And finally, he moved into a basic fighting stance.

He started slow. Jab, jab, front kick, block, roundhouse kick, jab, hook, back to basic. While going through the different forms, he slowly accelerated his movements and mixed it up a little. Hooks, back fists, side and low kicks, even a few elbow and knee techniques. For a while, the sound of his rapid movements filled the air. In the end, he moved so fast, his limbs were nothing more than vague blurs. By the time Avior had enough, he was short on breath despite his monstrous stamina and recovery.

"It does require a lot of energy to keep a proper form while using enhanced strength and speed," Avior said to himself. "Guess it makes sense. Human martial arts are built around human limitations after all. Adapting them to a super-human physique might prove quite the challenge."

He took a moment to evaluate his traces on the ground. The holes left by his powerful movements were all grouped. Whether he advanced or retreated, whether he dodged are evaded an imaginary foe, it was well documented in the soil. Under normal circumstances he might have been proud of such well-maintained footwork, but now…

"Seems like a waste," Avior sighed. "Relying on traditional movement strategies limits me too much in speed and agility." He carefully restored his training field to its original state. "I guess this is just another point on my growing list of things to figure out."

Done with the physical aspect of tonight's training, he prepared for the second, and much more interesting part. Tonight, he finally wanted to achieve his transformation.

The werewolves from Hellsing are a race of immortal shapeshifters and were often classified as demons. In contrast to the werewolves of the wizarding world, they were not afflicted with some magical sickness and could freely decide when to take what form. At least in theory.

During the last two weeks, Avior had repeatedly tried to change into a wolf, but to no avail.

"I totally got it this time. I think I know what to do know."

He took a relaxed stance. His feet were shoulder-length apart, his arms were freely dangling at his sides. He straightened his back and closed his eyes.

'Deep breaths.' He focused. 'Breathe in…and breathe out. Breathe in…and breathe out. Breathe in…' With this mantra, his mind sank into comfortable, focused clearness. He concentrated on his body and mind, felt them, and observed everything that was happening.

He observed as his breath became deeper and more regular. He noticed his sweat slowly running down his temples. He felt his heart beating and his blood flowing through his veins. Focusing on his blood, he followed it as it traveled from his heart to the lungs, back to the heart, and then to the rest of his body, before returning to his heart once again to repeat the cycle. He immersed himself in the flow of his blood, in the rhythm of his beating heart. And then he connected with it. The wild and primal energy that permeated his body. Pulsing and flowing through him, with the beating of his heart. Avior enjoyed a brief moment of triumph before it all came crashing down.

The next pulse of energy erupted into a flood wave and swept through his system. Then came the next wave. And the next. With every spike, it turned fiercer and more violent. His heartbeat accelerated. His muscles cramped up. He groaned under the strain as the energy flooded his brain. His clothes stuck to him due to excessive sweat, and he could even taste blood in his mouth. But that didn't matter. Because the waves kept coming. He was filled to the brim with pure savagery. And just a thin layer of skin containing this storm.

And with the next peak, he burst. The world degraded into vague impressions of blurry pictures, intense smells, and strange noises. And through it all cut a domineering howl.