Chapter 1: The Blood of The Werewolf 2

Part 2: Demons, Vampires, and Werewolves Oh My!

"Good job," the voice said while Milo stood panting, "choose your next foe." He walked to the pedestal and caught his breath.

"What type of twisted bullshit is behind these other doors!?" Milo shouted to the room. No response. Tentatively Milo walked toward the pedestal. The stone button with the skull was stuck and pressed into the rest of the stone around it. Suddenly there was a loud clanking noise as the doors to the armory slowly opened outward. Looking down at the pedestal he saw the weapons he had were now just a scimitar and spear. The ax and shield were covered in remains, he felt no need to ever touch them again. Walking back into the armory he saw a sword with a cross. The pentagram flashed through his mind, grabbing the sword he looked around the room for any more religious-themed weapons.

In D&D only a magical weapon can harm demons. This is the best I got. Chaotic evil so no bargaining. Milo thought to himself knowing deep down that his countless hours in a basement rolling dice was not going to help him here.

He grabbed the sword, a small hatchet with etchings on the blade. After a while, he walked back out ax in one hand sword against his back. After waiting a few seconds and calming himself down he clicked the pentagram button. Once again he prepared to fight. He never got the chance because a man in a suit walked out, he waved his hand and a table appeared. Speaking with a deep southern accent the man sat down,

"No need for your weapons boy. We will play a gentleman's game, blackjack. I trust you know the basic rules." He said while shuffling a deck of cards, "Rules for us all are a little different, if you lose I get your soul, win and you walk. Sit, sit" Milo eyed him cautiously setting the ax and sword down next to his spear. He then took the sheath of the scimitar off his hip, placing it on the ground. Approaching the table Milo noticed every time he blinked the man looked slightly different there was something off about him. Milo pulled out his chair and sat down.

"Who are you" Milo requested

"Now boy, there is too much power in one's true name, call me the Colonel. Oh, I forget my manners, would you like a drink?" waving his hand, drinks appeared on the table, "What's your poison? Whiskey, beer, wine, vodka? Maybe you are more like Bond, a martini perhaps?" Each drink appeared as he said their name.

"Just a water please."

"An excellent choice if I do say so myself." With a wave of his hand a tall glass of water clear as day was on the table. Milo grabbed the glass and drank, he didn't know how thirsty he was because he drained the cup in one gulp. To his astonishment it refilled.

"Now, Now, let's get to playing, oh my we need a dealer." He snapped and the chair to his left caught on fire and standing there was a man in an equally snazzy suit. Two hours later Milo found himself walking back to the pedestal with a deck of cards in his pocket. Two doors, fangs, and a wolf. He turned to collect his weapons but they were gone except for the spear and scimitar. He picked up the spear in one hand and affixed the sheath to his waist.

Pressing the button down he dropped the spear. In doing so he heard the clanking of the armory cease. The door opened, but unlike the devil or the zombie buttons nothing came out, torches started to go out as darkness spread.

Can't let them bite me. Ohhhhhh no, did the zombies, no no no no.

"Hello?" Milo called into the darkness, the only patch of light was over the pedestal, where he now stood in. The creature could be anywhere, his grip tightened on the scimitar. The moon showed through a hole in the ceiling. Illuminating a small space just ahead of Milo. Stumbling forward Milo felt cold air on his neck, he spun around to nothing. A slight hissing noise issued from all around. Once finally in the light, Milo realized his mistake. His pupils that had been adjusting to the darkness instantly narrowed. The slight silhouettes of columns became almost impossible to see. A hand came shooting out of the darkness, reaching for Milo's chest. Milo sliced his scimitar into the wrist and jumped backward. He backed up to a pillar and pushed his head against it so that there was no space. After looking around the room terrified Milo felt a drop of something land on his shoulder, Looking up Milo saw the feral mouth covered in saliva. The creature dropped down onto Milo pulling them both into a roll. The vampire took his wrist and squeezed causing Milo to drop his weapon. Kicking the vampire off of him Milo quickly grabbed its hands and pulled with all his might pressing his feet into its chest. The Vampire pulled against him, sending him stumbling. Milo found his footing and ran for the light once again. Running full tilt, groin first into the pedestal.

"AHHHH FUCK, MY BALLS!" Milo dropped to the ground in pain.

This is it, I'm going to die. I am going to die with bruised balls.

Accepting defeat he let his hands drop to his sides. His knuckle was brushed against something wooden and hard. The spear! At that moment he realized that he heard the vampire jump for him. Sitting up with the spearhead facing the vampire Milo watched as the feral beast slid down stopping inches from his face. Cold blood spilled from the chest covering the spear handle. The vampire opened his mouth letting a clot of cold blood cover Milo's face. Milo clenched his mouth tight.

"Fuck" The vampire cursed, all movement ceasing. Milo's eyes adjusted enough to see he saw the missing former senator, Milo took a deep breath. A warm liquid streaming down his leg and pooling on the stone.

So my mom was right, he was a blood-sucking politician.

He thought wryly to himself and smirked knowing he was sitting in a puddle of his urine. Milo stood up clutching his chest. He began to walk for the armory but it had not opened.

"Finish the Vampire, take its head off." The voice boomed from all around him. Milo dropped to the ground, tears streaming down his face mixing with the blood already covering the ground. He had no way to cut its head off, stuck in the darkness he curled into a ball and began weeping. After a minute he remembered the scimitar was dropped not too far from where he was. Uncurling, he began to feel around. Wiping the blood off his face with one arm he found it. Milo stood scimitar in hand, leg starting to dry. He swung the blade down on the neck. One blow the head remained on. Two and it began to separate vertebrae. Three and it finally came clean off. After waiting a few minutes the loud clanking filled the room. Light flooded from the doors showing Milo the carnage all around him. How the fuck did I not trip on all of that? He thought, walking into the armory for the last time.

My mouth is drier than a girl's pants when she hears that I play D&D.

Almost instantaneously a portion of the wall opens up. Out came a water cooler, with a side compartment full of paper cones. There was a white and red lever. Placing the playing cards down and yanking one out Milo put it beneath and pushed it down. BLUB. The bubble of air rose in the large plastic container. After finishing he filled another. BLUB.

God this image must be weird. A boy in a dungeon, in a combat suit, standing with medieval weapons all around him. Getting water from a cooler. Leg covered in piss face covered in blood.

BLUB. Milo sat down with his water and tried to breathe evenly and go through everything he knew about Werewolves. Werewolves always seemed interesting to him, he also always had strange dreams about them, at least he thought they were dreams.

He laughed to himself Werewolves! This is fucking crazy, just this morning I was a normal sophomore. Now I've seen some of my worst nightmares, things I've joked about with my friends. I just killed a fucking vampire!

He began crying. "Why me? Out of everyone? I'm just a nobody, nothing worth anyone's time. Yet you choose me, gave me no choice, just abducted me and forced me into this hellhole!" Milo yelled at the ceiling, releasing all of the emotions that he had pent up. "What sick psycho puts a kid through this? You haven't given me anything but weapons to kill with what is your purpose here? Don't fucking say you gave me this water ceiling voice. It's creepy you gave it to me out of random." Milo suddenly stood up looking around the room as we wiped his eyes. Leather armor hanging on the wall next to a set of silver weapons caught his eye. Donning the armor he then grabbed four throwing knives and inserted them into slots in the armor. There was a pair of good-sized silver daggers he put in slots on his thighs. Lastly, he grabbed two silver scimitars in trade for his normal scimitar. After waking out of the room he reached the pedestal. Only one button remained raised above the stone. He readied both of his scimitars and pressed the button with the hilt of his left scimitar. The large door slowly swung open.

That is one reinforced door!

Slowly a pack of five Werewolves crept out of the darkness, the Alpha and Beta in the lead. The Alpha was larger than all the others, with large patches of hair missing from its brown coat. The Alpha growled menacingly at Milo then in a different tone growled at the Beta, like they were communicating. The beta looked to Milo and crouched ready to spring, Milo followed suit crouching down weapons ready. The Beta sprang towards him, leaping impossibly far, it stretched its jaws open big enough to bite his head off. Yelling Milo leaped as well and swung with his right sword slicing the top of its right ear off. As they landed they turned and ran at each other again. Milo waited for the Beta to jump, then he slid instead as they passed each other he stabbed upward letting the Beta eviscerate itself. As he slowed Milo quickly turned around toward the remaining Werewolves, his back facing the pile of dead bodies. The Werewolves began to flank him.

Wait, where is the Alpha?

His back hit the pile and his head whipped back and forth looking for the Alpha, suddenly a gigantic weight crashed into him. He slammed into the wall across from him. The Alpha growled and the pack sank back. Milo dragged himself up.

"Is that the best you got?" Milo spat blood out of his mouth and out he pulled one of the throwing knives. It flipped through the air, lodging in the creature's flesh. Yelping in pain the Alpha rushed forward to attack again. Milo barely dodged out of the way in time, rolling across the hard floor. As he stood up again the Alpha was on top of him. The wind shot out from Milo's mouth leaving him lightheaded. In a moment of pure instinct, Milo thrust his right blade into the beast's shoulder. He proceeded to clap both hands onto the side of its ears while kicking its chest. Milo steadied himself. In a half-circle around Milo, the five malnourished werewolves stood frothing at the mouth. One let out a low bark to draw his attention. Milo's head turned to face the black and white beast. The second his head was turned the Alpha leaped forwards taking Milo with it. The world seemed to slow as the scimitar he was holding dropped out of his hand. Milo turned his head in time to see the teeth of the wolf close around his elbow and forearm, his bone-crunching. Turning his head again he looked at the ground and the world seemed to speed up again head hit the stone floor with a resounding THUNK!

Silently the principal watched emotionlessly as Milo was tackled and had his arm snapped in a grotesque angle, while the two cloaked figures of Isaiah and Zoë flinched. The principal yawned and said, "Welp, I was hoping he'd do better and join us in our quest but I guess not. He seemed so promising too." He ruefully shook his head as he turned away the wolves started to howl then Milo started twitching and Zoë ran over to the window and stared at Milo. "Umm, I think something is wrong."

He saw a burst of stars and the wolves loped over to him, then nothing. The dreams started again.

"They are not simple dreams young one," A voice said

Suddenly he was standing in a sea of mist, swirling around his feet and an old man appeared in front of him with a small smile. "Those, my child, are the memories of your ancestors."

"Wait, who are you?" Milo asked eyeing the man, five shadows lulled in the background,

"Your great Grandfather plus a few greats, but that doesn't matter. This is your legacy."

Pictures start flashing past in front of him, showing a pack of wolves in a forest changing into humans and back. A man and a woman with a cross necklace. A child was taken from a crib. A man in full armor being bit by a large wolf. A house burning an angry mob outside.

"Embrace the wolf boy, embrace the WEREWOLF!" he cried.

Milo suddenly woke, he tried to breathe but his ribs rattled, and then his ribs and arm blew up in pain. Looking over to his arm it suddenly snapped back in place and healed over. Milo felt immense pain as his limbs grew, hair sprouted from his skin, and his bones seemed to rearrange. He stood to full height, no longer Milo, but a pitch-black Werewolf. His hearing and smell seemed much stronger. He heard the light click of claws on the stone floors. Turning he faced the Alpha growling, Milo could see but felt no control over his actions. He leaped at the Alpha, biting down on its neck and spraying blood everywhere.

That tastes weirdly good.

Howling in pain the Alpha punched Milo clean in the diaphragm. Milo reeled back, unclenching his jaw. The two beasts circled each other growling. Milo lunged forward, grabbing the alpha's leg and lifting upward while sweeping the other foot out. Landing with a thud on the ground the Alpha let out a groan. Milo clambered on top, pinning both arms down. Their muzzles inches from each other, the Alpha snapped at Milo. Milo plunged his teeth directly into its neck, pulling the jugular out with his canines as he stood. The alpha rose in his arms lifeless. Dropping the limp Alpha he turned toward the others and licked his lips. In unison they attacked. Milo spun toward the nearest one and slammed down with his right hand cracking its skull. The three remaining werewolves yipped in fear, backing away. Milo exploded into motion, leaping at two he snapped his jaw down on one's neck while shoving his claws through the other's stomach. The last werewolf began to submit. Milo could not stop himself as he ripped the intestines out. For hours he ran around the room feral, he clawed at the walls and consumed the meat of the now-dead werewolves. At one point he stupidly tried eating the fat deviant's corpse, which he promptly spit out and never approached again. Just as the moon started to go down Milo found himself naked and covered in blood.

What the fuck was that? Where am I? What's going on? Oh yeah, you were kidnapped, killed some zombies, beat a demon at blackjack, killed a vampire, and got turned into a werewolf. Fuck my life.

As he went to lay down on the ground the doors he had been let through slammed open, Isaiah and Zoë rushed in accompanied closely by Palomi.

"Good my dear boy. How do you feel?"

"My head hurts and I'm cold. Extremely cold."

"As to be expected. Now Isaiah here will escort you to your room, you will be provided with whatever you wish. Just ask and we will provide."

Milo stood, his arms, legs, and chest noticeably more buff. He stared down Palomi,

"You aren't a Principal are you?"

"I am actually. But I have not been entirely truthful." He stuck his hand out, "Sir Palomides, Knight of the round table. Nice to finally make your acquaintance."