1 Transformation And An Explanation

I'd had a semi-normal life up until I turned 17.

I had a loving father, a doting mother and an annoying little sister who secretly loved her big bro (platonically). I was the star of my highschool's football team, girls wanted to date me, guys wanted to be me - I was definitely living the dream life.

Which is why a few months after I turned 17, I knew how utterly fucked I was. Because on day, I awoke with new memories inside my head - memories of my past life and how I'd died, woke up in front of some giant wheel of fortune thing and then spun it two times. One, for my destination, and two, for what my power would be in this new world.

I got 'Vampire Diaries (Amalgam)'. It's basically if Twilight were a TV Series and actually had a somewhat fleshed out world. Still focused quite a bit on teen romance though.

I remembered being somewhat bummed out by that being the world I was going to. Especially when there were anime, movies and other TV shows I'd rather have been sent to. But I figured that 'amalgam' part would probably add more to the world, which I remember feeling was both good and bad. Though regardless I what I felt at the time, I kept chugging along and spun the wheel a second time.

This time, I got 'New Subspecies: Lycan'. While momentarily confused, I quickly figured out what it meant. It meant that a new species was being added to the world I was going to...and I was going to be a part of that species.

Which is when I got reincarnated...and I only just got my memories back.

Which sucks ass. Because I'm already on my way to Mystic Falls. And I can already feel an itch under my skin like something was slowly waking up inside of me.

Just my luck to only get my memories back just as soon as I'm awakening as some sort of supernatural species. Even worse is that I'm currently in a car with my family and we're about to enter a new town, in broad daylight. If the thing inside of me wants to wake up, I'm gonna be in some deep shit.

So, ignoring my family and pretending to be asleep, I tried to keep whatever was inside me at bay.

And like so, time passed. All while I was suppressing whatever was inside me and thinking about my new circumstances.

In my past life I was also 17. Died from...something. I don't know what killed me - I just dropped to the floor, my legs having gone numb while everything quickly went dark. It was some scary shit, honestly. But this means I'm not some super prepared adult who's experienced all the sudden ups and downs of life - which means, right now, I'm kinda freaking out. I'm a 17-year-old, through and through. Probably a bit more mature than your average 17-year-old, I'll give you that, but that's still a 17-year-old no matter how you try and spin it.

It's not as simple as 17+17 = 34. I've only ever lived up to the point where I'm a teenager - I've never lived an adults life, man. I've never even had a full-time job. Neither have I gone to college. I hadn't even traveled outside of America either.

I was only seventeen, regardless of my situation.

This helplessness at my current situation brewed inside of me until it bubbled into frustration. That frustration quickly boiled and twisted until it was anger. And so went the cycle, of me trying to keep myself calm in case that sped things up - whatever 'things' were - and utterly failing as it continued to bubble to the surface.

Honestly, it was both a curse and a blessing as the trip went by so much quicker when I was thinking and trying to suppress myself - or whatever was inside of me.

I was so in my own little world that I didn't even notice when dad opened the car door and shook me, "Come on, kid, I know you ain't asleep. Seems like we need to have a talk," he said and I cracked open an eye to look curiously at him.

My dad. In this life, at least. He was a tall man, about 6'3", and he was built strongly with broad shoulders, a wide chest and a straight back. Yet a few too many cakes had given him a bit of chub around the stomach area. Though I genuinely do not doubt that dad could probably kick the shit out of quite a few people without breaking a sweat. He was, after all, a Captain in the Army Rangers for a while before he retired.

But what I focused on more than that were his eyes and how they were looking at me with pity and understanding. I instantly understood that he knew what was happening to me.

"...W-what's happening?" I croaked out, the words taking more effort than any other time I'd tried to speak, my diaphragm spasming as I pushed the words out.

All dad did in reply was sigh before hooking his hands under my armpits and hoisting me up and out of the car. He brought my arm over his shoulder and I tried to help him by supporting myself with my legs - yet I couldn't. It felt like my bones had turned to rubbed, not being able to support my weight in any way.

Mom and Lily, my younger sister, were both staring at me worriedly but I could barely make out what dad said as he gave a laugh, "Don't worry. He's only a little travel sick. He'll be as right as rain after he gets one of my famous smoothies in him!" he laughed and my sister, while looking worried, still found the energy to roll her eyes at the mention of dad's 'famous smoothies'. They were famous in the family, just not for the reasons dad was trying to get across.

They'd be more likely to cause stomach pain than to cure it, let's just say that.

As Lily turned away I caught the look between mom and dad and instantly knew that mom wasn't as in the dark as I first suspected.

...So I take it they probably knew this was gonna happen. Are they Lycans as well? Or is it just dad?

"He'll be fine, Sarah," dad said in a quiet voice, "We suspected it was going to happen since he was so physically active. And Werewolves usually awaken between the ages of 16 and 18 - it's why we're back in Mystic Falls," he reassured mom but only gave me more and more questions.

Werewolves? But I thought I was supposed to be a Lycan--!

My thoughts were cut off by a surge of pain that made me double over, even with dad supporting my body. A quiet crack echoed through my ears, following by numerous other cracks that had me gritting my teeth. Luckily, Lily had gone upstairs so she couldn't hear them but that didn't apply to mom or dad.

"Get him downstairs, Harry," mom put aside her worry as she heard the cracks as she told dad to do what he had to, "And for God's sake at least tell him why this is happening."

With that, she shot off in the direction of the kitchen while dad grabbed my arm and hoisted me up again but this time into a fireman's carry, "Don't worry, Damien, you're gonna be fine, son. Just hang in there."

Everything was a bit of a blur from that point forward. My mind was jumbled and I couldn't think about my current life or my past life. Not even about the plot for the Vampire Diaries. My mind was just addled and ridden with pain, my sight went black around the edges, spots of darkness appearing in front of me as my ears buzzed. But the thing that always came through clear as day...was the cracking.

The feeling and the sound of my bones breaking and reconnecting, over and over and over and over - it was an endless cycle of pain.

And before I knew it, I was in a basement I didn't even know this new house was gonna have.

From what I could gather, through my spotty sight, was that the walls were covered in foam pads - acoustic panels, I think they're call. But from the slight cracks in between them, I saw what looked like sheets of metal bolted to the concrete wall behind it.

Dad strode toward a cage that smelled weird--No, that doesn't smell weird, that smells horrible. An overwhelming scent. Like if you held your nose close to a bottle of nail polish and sniffed. It nearly made me recoil, the only thing stopping me being the lack of control I had over my body right now. Still, dad carried me into the cage before safely settling me down. He took off my jacket before backing out of the cage and locking it closed.

I could understand why, even in my current mental state. I was transforming and whether he was a Werewolf/Lycan, going up against a transformed-whatever in Human form was an easy way to get killed.

Which brought me to my next question - why was I transforming now? I hadn't killed anyone. It wasn't a full-moon either. So, why was I turning? What dad and mom had talked about earlier crossed my mind and I could only guess that the (Amalgam) behind 'Vampire Diaries' had changed more than I thought it had.

"Now, Damien, I know this is confusing," he started and I looked to him as he held his hands out in a 'calm down' gesture, "I know. Trust me, I know. I went through this same thing when I was your age and it has to do with our family's history in Mystic Falls. Now, I know how painful it is, son, but you've gotta let the transformation happen! You can't hold it back otherwise it'll go on for longer!" he shouted over the cracks and snaps that were getting louder and louder, "You can scream, shout and curse all you want down here, Damien. I had the whole basement soundproofed!"

At that point, I remembered a part in the shows where Niklaus Mikaelson said the same thing. He spoke about letting the transformation happen instead of resisting it.

So, that's what I did.

And after one final crack that ran up the back of my spin, that's also where everything went black.

. . .

The next time I opened my eyes, I saw that the cage was battered and parts of the cage had been bent at 90 degree angles. Clumps of grey white fur covered the floor, along with a little amount of blood that had long since dried.

"Oh? You're already up?" I heard from my left, wincing at the sound that felt like it was spoken through megaphone. Seemingly knowing his mistake, dad spoke up quieter this time, "Shit--Uh, sorry, son...You okay?" even despite sounding sorry and apologetic over the loud noise...something in the tone of his voice told me he was happy. Proud, even.

Shaking my head of the ringing inside it and my ears, I answered groggily, "...Barely," I said before hacking up some blood onto the ground in front of me. "What the fuck was that, dad?" I asked, turning to dad. I had a vague understanding of what that was but it'd be better to know about it from a guy who knows than to rely on my possibly wrong information from the show.

Dad's green eyes went black for a second before he set down the lawn chair he was holding and unfolded it.

Sitting down, he began his reply, "There's something you need to know about our family, Damien. We originally come from Mystic Falls. We, the Lockwoods, were one of the Founding Families. But some time before that, around the mid-1700s, a member of our family intermingled with a certain Native American tribe that held a specific gene. Though it wasn't until 1864 that our ancestor, George Lockwood, awoke a certain side due to that gene."

Dad paused, looking to me to check if I was following. The grogginess had cleared up remarkably well by now and I was quickly coming to realize the utter power I felt welling up inside of me. It was like someone had replaced my heart with a horse's, my blood flooding through my body with unnatural speed and warmth. Nonetheless, I still paid attention and my dad saw that, so he continued.

"We're Werewolves," he cleared the air, "Your mother and I, your younger sister most likely is as well. So are you, to a certain extent," he gestured to me before moving on without clarifying what he meant by 'certain extent', "When our ancestor awoke this power, he began to learn about his new physiology and fought in the civil war. He came back to Mystic Falls, a changed man both physically and mentally, and with the knowledge he wasn't the only supernatural thing in the world. There were other Werewolves. Even Witches. Sadly, also Vampires. But that's neither here nor there," he waved his hand in dismissal as he continued, "The point is, that our family are descendants of Werewolves, which means we are. Even your mother comes from a Werewolf family of esteemed heritage that stretches far back beyond mine."

"But what about me?" I asked, unable to hold the curiosity back as dad came to an end with his talking, "What do you mean by I'm a Werewolf but only to a certain extent?"

"Because Damien," dad smiled before gesturing to me again, "You're something more. Something greater." I just looked at him, confused still, and he finally relented, "Along the way through time, there were times where Werewolves needed defenders. Warriors who stood above normal Werewolves and could protect their pack even without the aid of the Full Moon. You are one of those Warriors - you're a Lycan, Damien."

Dad seemed unable to hold in his joyous energy as he stood up and smiled, walking to the gate of the cage before opening it and gesturing for me to get up, "Come on up, son. It might be a bit early but I think we need to have a celebratory drink!"

Still confused, I got up with unsteady legs. I couldn't understand the significance of what I was, but I could at least understand that it was an honor of some sort. Something rare.

"Isn't it a bit weird to be encouraging your 17-year-old son to drink with you at...Wait a minute, how long was I out?" I wondered aloud and dad soon answered me with a chuckle.

"You were only out for a few hours. The first transformation is really only a test to see if you can handle the power of the Moon flowing through you," he informed me about the power of the whatever, and I resisted rolling my eyes as he continued, "And besides, my dad had a drink with me after I transformed for the first time - take it as a family tradition, Damien. A family tradition," he nodded to himself, as if reassuring himself of it. That, or preparing himself for the inevitable nagging he'd get off mom for this shenanigan.

Trudging toward the opening in the beaten up cage, I felt an unnatural repulsion to the cage. It was like every nerve in my body was telling me to stay away from the cage, as if it were deadly poisonous to me.

So, like any normal idiot, I touched at one of the metal bars with a finger. I only did it lightly but it felt like I'd just touched a burning hot stove.

Hissing, I pulled my finger back, "Fuck!" I cursed, unable to stop myself as the skin at the end of my finger bubbled and burned before it finally began to heal back to normal. Within a second, it was back to normal, the horrendous burn gone.

"...Well I'll be damned, a Lycan's resistance to Wolfsbane is beyond imagination," dad laughed in disbelief before he slapped me on the shoulder, "Only been a Lycan for a few hours and you're already at the level of resistance only Werewolf elders would be at. You're making your dad proud, kid!" he encouraged me heavily before guiding me to the door, "Though, don't curse like that too much. Even if you come into contact with Wolfsbane. Your mom'll have your tongue if she hears you," dad jokingly said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Rolling my eyes, I just followed him toward the exit for the basement. Though, as soon as the door opened, I widened my eyes and recoiled a few steps before shaking my head back and forth in an almost drunken stupor. Seeing this, presumably, dad spoke up.

"Don't worry about those senses, Damien. Most newbies get it under control in a day or two. I'd assume Lycans can do it somewhat quicker," he said and just as he said it, it was like someone had turned the volume down, "Aaaaand it looks like I'm right. As always," dad finished sarcastically before turning to walk up the stairs.

Reveling in my new control, I began following while thinking about my sense of hearing. It was subdued but I knew I was still picking up the sound - I just wasn't consciously registering it. At any moment, however, I could turn it back to full and listen to it all at once. And I also had the feeling that if I needed to hear something, I would. Regardless of whether it was turned up or whether it was subdued.

I guess the sounds I wasn't consciously hearing were still being subconsciously registered and anything blatant relevant to my survival or my well-being would be brought to my attention through that.

And, with that though played out inside my head, I began walking up the stairs up out of the basement.

My body felt great, my head was beginning to clear up and I was even beginning to forget the pain of that horrible goddamn transformation. This power also gave me some confidence to face what would be coming to Mystic Falls sometime soon--Well, actually, I didn't know at which point through the timeline I'd been dropped off. It could be the start of season 1 or even as late as the mid-part of season 2. I had no idea.

...Here's to hoping it's the start of season 1. I'd hate to get thrown in at the deep end, man.

Well, either way, I think it'd probably be best if I ask dad about how to further my strength as a Lycan or whatever. I know how to fight, from the self-defense I remember from my last life and the stuff dad has taught me in this life...but learning how to put this power to use could only help me in this type of world.