Chapter 1: Out of the Woods

Where am I and what happened? What are these strange clothes I am wearing? The hunters had chased me into the witch's woods. Something had hit me hard in the back of the head and everything had gone black and then I passed out. Now I have woken in the woods, but something smells wrong. There is something smoldering close by. I hope it isn't the hunters' campfire.

I stretch and stand up. This can't be right. Is this a dream? I look at my hands. They are human and not in my hybrid form, but this can not be right. I must be at least seven feet tall. These hard leather boots must add another inch or two to my height. What is this strange leather armor that I am wearing? Why would I have leather fringes on it?

I follow the smell, slowly walking as stealthily as I can through the woods under the almost full moon. The smell of the pine trees and the feel of the gentle breeze, makes me feel more comfortable. At the sound of every twig breaking under my feet, I want to jump. I realize it is only my nerves getting the best of me. A hunter's instinct is always telling them they are being too loud.

As I get closer to the object I smell, I realize there are other scents mingled into it that I do not recognize. I can smell or detect the presence of magic, and the slight smell of demonic magic. I also smell the presence of the witches' magic. She did say she would protect my soul.

The strange object is glowing slightly. A faint reddish green. But what is it? It is made of metal. It has a place to sit upon it made of black leather. It has a round wheel on the front and back of it, made of a strange material. It is decorated to look like skulls protruding from it, with strange black metal patterns, almost like backbones or corroded metal with barnacles on it. It has strange horn-like handles to hold on to if one were to sit on the strange leather saddle on it, with black leather saddlebags hanging off of the back end of it. What a strange creature or device it is.

It beckons for me to touch it, and oddly, I am not afraid of it. Almost pulsing with strange magic from it that gets stronger as I cautiously approach it. I reach out and touch it, hoping that it is not hot and will not burn me as I look at it, wondering what it could be.

As I touch it,a surge of hellish green fire surrounds me, I snap into a trance-like state as another mind invades my mind, almost like a pack link. In a flash, years of knowledge transfer into my mind, and a very disturbing flashback of me dying and my soul being lost into a black swirling maelstrom of magic, only to reform into this new body of mine. A body of a truly strong warrior from ages before mine. One they would call a berserker warrior. True to her word, the old witch protected my soul and brought me back into a future time, but with a twist of fate with it. She also transformed her essence into this machine she called a motorcycle or a hog. What a strange name for this device as it does not look eatable to me. Unlike most machines of its kind, this one runs on demonic energy and her magic essence, instead of a substance called gasoline. I am still an Alpha werewolf, just without a pack to call my own.

This world is strange indeed and will take some time to get used to. I am something they call a biker. There are still many other supernaturals in this world. We still all hide our true forms as much as possible. Combat is no longer one on one like it used to be, but also fought with weapons they call guns, and bombs meant to take on many at once. The population has gone crazy and is a hundred times more than it has when I walked up on this land.

I mount my bike and start it up as it rumbles under me; it is marked with the letters HD, wich many will assume means Harley Davidson, but I know it stands for Hell and Doom. I do not know how, but I just know by instinct how to drive it and use it. This must have all been part of the witches' dying magic that she used, giving us both a chance to live again and to protect the unfortunate.

I pull onto the road, a strange path made from black melted rock, letting it lead me to the nearest settlement. After riding for a few hours, I can smell long before I can see a roadside tavern. As I get closer, I can see a red sign that says vacancy on it. I can hear strange but soothing music pounding from the bar area, which has many other bikes parked outside of it and a few other cars that we bikers call cages, what a strange but befitting name for them. I pull up to the office where the sign was, to procure a room for the night.

I can sense the fear and excitement in the clerk as I enter and ask for a room for the night. He is awe-struck and intimidated by my size, but hands me a room key, being very polite the whole time.

As I turn to leave, he clears his throat and speaks, " miss you might not want to wear your cut in that bar. They do not normally take kindly to new motorcycle clubs in the area, even if you are just passing through. You being a woman and all they will probably try causing you trouble or harm. Is The Hell Wolf MC a new club, as I have never heard of them before." I wonder why they call a leather vest a cut?

"No, we are new, and I am sure I will be okay. Besides, I am very good at taking care of myself. I just hope they serve a good large steak there, as I am famished. It feels like I have not eaten in years." I reply as it crosses my mind that I probably have not eaten in centuries.