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Your typical, modern werewolf family! |
| [Introduction]
Imagine your favorite sitcoms. The Flintstones, The Simpsons, Married with Children, etc. This will sort of be like that, except the title family are secretly werewolves who immigrated from Transylvania. I know, real original. But can you name a place better known for monsters to come from? Anyway, the main characters are as follows. Jonathan Gorvich Occupation: Police Officer Physical age: 45 Real Age: 107 The father of the family, moved to America a few decades ago from Transylvania with his wife, Sheila. Since then, they have had two offspring, with a third on the way. Works as a local police officer, and is quite good at his job, often using his naturally sharper senses to his advantage while on duty. Is very protective of his family, as any father should be. But maybe sometimes he takes this role a bit too seriously. Sheila Gorvich Occupation: School teacher, currently on leave Physical age: 30 Real Age: 85 A loving mother and excellent cook, Sheila married her husband around forty years ago, and about a decade or so after that, moved to America to start a new life together. Currently expecting their third child, she is temporarily off her job as a school teacher and currently spends most of the day at home doing what she can to keep herself occupied. Janet Gorvich Age: 16 A junior in high school, and cheerleader for the local football team. Basically your average teenage girl, if not for the fact she and her family are werewolves. Has recently begin going into her heat cycle, which can be kind of a nuisance to her parents, as she's already broken up with five boyfriends in the last month.n Bobby Gorvich Age: 10 A happy go lucky kind of kid in the fourth grade, always eager to make new friends. Bobby is the onl member of his family who has yet to be able to transform, as werewolves typically don't develop this ability until they reach puberty. But he still has a werewolf's natural abilities such as sharper smell and hearing, strength and night vision. The family keeps their status as werewolves a secret from their neighbors, for fear of how they would react. They only transform in private, or in each other's company. Of course, with the beast blood in their veins, they have a natural hunger for fresh meat. Sometimes, that meat is from human sources. However, they do not just devour anybody, they are very careful to only take those they consider to deserve it, such as criminals and such. With all that out of the way, what's say you we get this story started? |
| The day started out like any other for the Gorvich family, with them all sitting at the dining room table in their human forms, eating breakfast. Sheila, who by this point was quite obviously pregnant, as anyone could tell just by seeing her swollen belly, couldn't help but scarf down a large helping of eggs and toast. John looked up from his plate, saying "Slow down there, honey! I know you're eating for two, but we don't need you choking." "I can't help it. I can't even tell where my appetite ends and the baby's begins by this point." John chuckled "Well, you've been through this twice before, I know you'll get through it. You're a tough woman, that's part of what attracted me to you in the first place." Sheila giggled, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek as she went to get another plate. Janet was furiously typing away at her phone, writing a text to one of her friends. "Janet, you know it's rude to text at the table." Said Sheila as she sat back down. "Sorry mom, but this is important. I think Jeff is going to ask me out soon!" At these words, both her parents sighed. Jeff was only the latest in a string of boyfriends their daughter has had since she turned sixteen. So far, none of them lasted more than a week or so, which made John and Sheila wish they knew why their daughter kept breaking up with them so quickly, but the decided to let her have her privacy. Bobby looked up at his father and said "Guess what, dad? I know what I want to do when I grow up!" John smiled. "Really? What would that be?" "A superhero!" Bobby stated proudly. John chuckled "A superhero? Like in those comic books you read?" "Yeah, exactly! I'm gonna be like Sliverfang!" "Who's that?" "He's a werewolf that hunts down and eats criminals, just like us! In fact, you and him are a lot alike. He's even a cop when he's not in wolf form. Say, dad, are you a superhero too?" John grinned, playing along. "Well, son, if I was, for your own safety, I couldn't tell you." After finishing breakfast, and the kids were headed to their respective schools, John packed his lunch and kissed wife goodbye before driving to the police station. After clocking in, he met up with his partner, Bill. Bill was of Native American descent, and his real name was pretty much unpronounceable by anyone not of his tribe, so everyone just called him Bill. After a pretty dull morning going about their usual patrol, John and Bill stopped to eat their lunch. John was about to bite into his sandwich, when he smelled something strange. Roast beef. Strange, he thought, I didn't pack roast beef, I packed the leftovers we had of that mugger last night. "It was then he realized Bill had accidentally grabbed his lunch in an identical bag, and was about to eat a sandwich full of human meat! "STOP!" John cried "DON'T EAT THAT!" |
| Bill stopped. "Why?" "I'm surprised you can't smell it," said John. "But the sandwich my wife made for me has a tablespoon of Ghost Chili Pepper Salsa on it, and I can smell it on the sandwich you have in your hands, but not on this one." Bill grimaced upon hearing what was on the sandwich. "You seriously eat that shit?" He placed it back in the bag, and handed said bag to John. "I don't understand folks who eat the really spicy stuff. Too much heat ruins the pleasure for me." "Well I like more than a bit of heat," John said, as he handed Bill his actual sandwich. To be honest, there was Ghost Chili Pepper Salsa as part of the sandwich, and John did enjoy the heat of the stuff. |
| Meanwhile, back at home, Sheila was sitting on the living room sofa, flipping through the TV channels. She had pretty much finished all the cleaning that needed to be done the day before, and found herself with a rare opportunity to get off her feet and relax while she had some time to herself. As she went from channel to channel, she came across some cheesy werewolf horror movie. She couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle. Hollywood really was as ignorant as they could possibly be when it came to the reality of being a werewolf. Spreading the idea that they can only be killed by a silver bullet, or can only transform during at full moon. Or perhaps worst of all, that they were mindless beasts constantly searching for fresh prey. That last one may have been true at one time, but there were very few members of the global werewolf community that still followed that sort of mentality. Then again, as far as most humans knew, werewolves didn't really exist at all, so she really couldn't blame them too much for not knowing what it was like to actually be one. Just then, she felt a kick from the inside of her body. She let out a small yelp of surprise, before smiling and rubbing her belly, humming a gentle tune. She began to think back to when she and John had first moved to America. They had been married for a decade at that point, and she found herself wanting to start a family. John was rather hesitant at first. It wasn't that he hated children, but rather, his own parents had been, shall we say, quite stern in his upbringing. Whenever he would get out of line, his father was quick to put him back in, sometimes quite forcefully. John was afraid he would project that same aggression onto his own kids, but Sheila managed to convince him to give it a try, and not too long after, Janet was born. As the years went by, John seemed to get over his fears. But the kids had never met their grandparents. Whether that was because they never knew that they had moved from Transylvania, or because John wanted to protect his children from them, who could say? At around 3 PM, the schools let out for the day and the kids returned home. John wouldn't be off duty for another two hours, so Sheila began to make dinner for that evening. It was then she realized they had nothing for the main course, as they had eaten their latest catch the night before. With a frustrated sigh, Sheila asked Janet to keep an eye on Bobby while she ran out to find fresh meat for dinner. If she couldn't find a random mugger or drug dealer, venison would have to do. After their mother had gone out, Janet heard the sound of crying coming from Bobby's room. She went to check on him, and asked what was wrong. "It's Trent. He was bullying me again today. Called us a family of freaks." Trent was a kid in Bobby's class that loved to cause trouble. Janet sat beside her brother and comforted him. "There, there. You know what? I think it's time this Trent kid learned a lesson." |
| "I'm worried about Sheila," John said. "It's our third child in sixteen years, and it's been ten years since the last one. I wonder if she's up to it." Bill looked at him. "Maybe you should see a doctor. Most couples, let alone those that are married, tend to have all the kids they're going to have in their first five years. A ten year gap might be signs of a medical issue." John chuckled nervously. "Car 39, calling Car 39." "Dispatch, this is Car 39," Bill said, as he picked up the radio. "Go ahead." "Altercation at the soup kitchen on Seventh and Spring," said Dispatch. "At least one injury reported. Perpetrators seem to be local gang members." "We're on it," said Bill. John flipped the lights, and stepped on the gas. A couple of minutes later, John and Bill stopped at the soup kitchen. John caught the scent of blood, and broke into a run. He stopped when he caught sight of the injured person, who wore the outfit of a Catholic priest. The priest was holding their left hand, palm upright, as a volunteer applied a bandage. "Risky move grabbing the blade like that," the volunteer said. "Dealt with worse before," the priest said. "Still, you didn't do to bad yourself. Those Army Special Forces probably wish that they still had you." "Might say the same about the Navy SEALs wanting you back," the volunteer said. "Sorry, but I got higher orders now," the priest said. "Some of these guys are our own." "Know the feeling," the volunteer said. "I can't leave these guys either." "Excuse me," said John. "What happened?" At this, the volunteer stood up, and turned around. John saw that he had an eyepatch over his right eye. "Just a couple of punks that needed a swift kick in the ass." "More like lost souls in need of spiritual guidance if you ask me," the priest said, as they stood up. John noticed that the priest's one leg was a prosthetic. "In any case, I doubt those five will be back in a hurry," the volunteer said. "So, what happened?" John asked. "A couple of our regulars had been going to rehab, for understandable reasons," the priest said. "Five gang members showed up, claiming that they owed them money. Me and Frank here tried to get them to leave, peacefully, only for the one in charge to pull out a knife. I tried to mitigate the danger, but I guess I'm a little rusty, and they were able to jerk the blade around while I held it in my hand, loosening it enough to cut me." "Know the feeling Joe," said Frank, as he rubbed his own hand. "Been years since I've done any hand-to-hand fighting myself. Probably dislocated a finger or two." "Anyone else jump in?" John asked, as he looked at the rest of the crowd. "A couple of us grabbed large serving ladles and spoons," said one of the homeless men. "Apparently, between that, and Priest and Serge, they decided that it was best to run." |
| Janet sits in her room scheming. How could she a sixteen year old get back at a ten year old without getting in trouble. Staring out her window she allows her claws to extend a little. It felt good to release some of her wolf. She looks at her claws and smiles. If only she could use them. She shakes her head and her eyes shoot to her door as if one of her parents may be nearby. If her parents heard she wanted to do something they may have her help with their supply. She couldn't she had grown up with the humans the thought of killing one made her sick. Janet flops onto her bed. What was she even thinking, she was a werewolf. What was wrong with her. Her phone dings and she looks at it in surprise. Who would be texting her? She didn't have any friends nor did she walk around flashing her phone at people. She scrambles across the bed and snatches the phone off the side table and the screen lights up. Hidden Number Have you ever heard of Transylvania. Yeah that's what I thought. To me you look like a curious girl. If I'm right and you wanna know more meet me behind the school tomorrow at 3. Janet stares at her phone long after the screen goes dark. Did she really wanna know more about the place her parents wouldn't speak of? |
| John came home later that evening to find his wife preparing dinner. "So, what's on the menu tonight?" He asked with a smile. Sheila smiled back and replied "A freshly caught thug I found in the act of trying to sell drugs to some kids who couldn't have been older than middle school age. I'm thinking of frying this one. Unless you'd prefer something else?" John shook his head. "Fried is fine. Just don't finish him off too quickly. Let him feel the burn for a while." Later, the family was sitting at the table enjoying their meal when the doorbell rang. Sheila got up to answer and saw it was... |
| Bill. "Hey Sheila," he said. "I need to talk to John." "I'll get him," said Sheila. A moment later, John was on the porch with his partner. "So, what's up?" "A funny situation," Bill said. "A number of criminals have been vanishing. No trace. It's like they've vanished off the face of the Earth." "Could try the sewer system," said John. "Saw it on a CSI episode where the killer of the week dumped the body of the victim of the week into the sewer to get rid of it that way." "This is real life," said Bill. "It's tricky to lift up a manhole lid, and not just because the covers weigh 40 pounds." "You have a point there," said John. "Really strong hydrochloric acid perhaps?" "A bit expensive, but possible," said Bill. "So, just what did these guys do?" John asked. "Armed robbery, selling drugs, a bunch of other things, including a few murders, though it was hard to prove the cases for many of them," said Bill. "Lack of witness testimonial and such. Many were involved with some of the gangs." "Gang warfare or they pissed the boss off," said John. "Motive right there." "There's another theory, but the Chief doesn't want us to say it where it could be overheard," said Bill. John nodded. "Got you there." The unspoken theory was Vigilante Person. |
| So given the unspoken theory John and his mate were on par with batman, vigilantes. It was better than being thought of as blood-thirsty killers to be chased with pitchforks and torches. John figured encouraging that idea was probably in the best interests of his family. But how to do it without pointing his fellow police in their direction? |
| John thought for a long time, and then he looked at his family, it might be a risky endeavour, but if one of them transformed in the safety of their own homes (without alerting the neighbours), one of the werewolves could descend down into the sewers and try to detect the scent of the missing criminals. "Guys, I have a plan," John said slowly. "What is it dear?" Sheila wanted to know as she washed the dishes "It may be risky, but I'm sure we can track down these missing criminals without anyone else knowing," John began with a weary sigh... "One of us must transform here, then go down into the sewers to see if the scent can be traced quickly." |
| "But dad! Aren't we the ones making these criminals disappear?" The next day: Janet grabs her backpack and hurries behind the school. The person who texted her either knew to much and needed to be 'taken care of' or was like her. If it was the latter then she would finally have someone she could talk to outside of her family. She slows and allows her senses to highten. Nothing wrong with being cautious. Leaning against the school's back wall is a handsome boy she had never seen before. He looks up his shaggy black hair hanging in front od his bright blue eyes. Janet stops a few foot away taking care to be cautious with the handsome stranger, and pulls up her hand to inspect her acrillic nails trying to appear uninterested. To bad she couldn't just allow her claws to grow and paint them.{\i} The boy watches her for a long moment before shoving himself off the wall and taking a few steps towards her. She catches an odd smell from the boy and backpedals. Their was no human smell from this guy. Whatever he was, it frightened her a little. He smiles at her, knowing the reason for her actions. "I'm hello Rayne, I'm Dune. I'm glad you came." |
| (As I'm writing this, it's been three years since I last continued this story. I know I have a bad habit of procrastinating, and am currently trying to continue some of my older campfires that I've been putting off. In regards to the previous segment by stolenthrones, seeing as they have since left the site, I'm just going to retcon it and resume the story from here.) "Honey, you do realize we're the ones making these criminals disappear, right?" Sheila asked with a tone of concern, worried the stress of her husband's job was getting to him. "Of course. But just to be sure, I want to be positive that it''s just us and not the work of a serial killer targeting criminals." Janet scoffed. "So what if it is? If that's the case, they're really no different from us. We only kill those who deserve it. The only real difference is we eat the evidence." |
| (Know the feeling. Got a number of interactives collecting dust.) "Well, if it is just us, got to destroy the proof," said John. "But, if there's someone else - got to check oy out." Later that night, John left his home. Carefully, he soon found a dark alley, and shifted. As he started sniffing, something made him pause. Carefully, he turned around, and found himself looking at Bill. "So, do you want to tell me your story, or do I need to tell you?" Bill asked. "What do you mean?" John asked. "Most werewolves tend to run in groups, usually related," said Bill. "Sheila's also a werewolf - she has quite the apatite with that baby. Guess that means that Janet and Bobby are too, though Bobby's a little young to shift yet." "How long have you known?" John asked. "Suspected it for a while, several months to be honest, but the sandwiches confirmed it," said Bill. "Sandwiches?" John asked. "Took a little piece off of yours - got to admit, most wont touch something made with ghost chili peppers - and it was confirmed to be the flesh of a highly dangerous murderer we've been after," said Bill. "However, the real prize was the hair you accidentally left on mine - it confirmed what you are - Caninus sapiens, or however that bullshit Latin stuff works. Or, in layman's terms, werewolf." "So, what are you planning to do now?" John asked. "That would depend on what you try to do," said Bill. "If you try to kill me to protect your secret, along with your family, I'd understand, but, I'd have to kill or capture you." "Do you think that you can kill or capture me?" John asked. Bill nodded. "I can. However, since I see you as a friend, I'd rather not have the guilt of taking your life, I don't know if I could live with it," he said. "Likewise, it would feel like betrayal to lock you up in a cage, especially since I'd have to walk by you every day." "No prison would be able to hold me," said John. "This one can," said Bill. "Even I was surprised when I rook the tour, and saw just who, and what, was locked up in it." "You're saying that there's some secret prison that can hold werewolves?" John asked. "Among other things," said Bill. "But, as I said partner, I don't want to do that to you, especially given whom else I'd have to kill or capture." John's eyes widened as he grasped the implications behind Bill's words. "I see - it's not just me that you're after - my family." Bill nodded. "I'm afraid so. But, there is an alternative, one where you remain free, remain a cop, and get what you could say is a special promotion, with quite the pay raise, which can help out with the food situation." "What would that be?" John asked. "Ever watch that science-fiction show, Special Unit 2, or perhaps Sanctuary?" Bill asked. John chuckled. "Thought that the werewolf episodes were silly." Bill grinned. "I'll give you that," he said. "I always thought that the stuff dealing with telekinesis was stupid." "What do you mean by that?" John asked. Bill pointed at a tin can. "Watch." John watched, and saw the can crumple up, as if a strong hand had crushed it. He looked at Bill, and saw that he had a clenched fist. "Now for the tricky part," said Bill. John watched the can again, and watched it uncrumple, and be restored to what it was. He looked at Bill, whose breathing seemed to have become difficult. "Restoration is trickier than destroying, and takes more focus than just a general shape," said Bill. "But, then again, depending on how big the can is, I can just pop it open, split the seams, and have a bunch of flying objects, any of which could give you trouble, much like the garbage container floating above you, along with its contents." John looked up. Ten feet above him was one of the local trash receptacles - easily five hundred pounds, not including the contents, which probably made up another three hundred at the bare minimum. He looked back at Bill. "That wouldn't be enough to kill me." Bill grinned. "I know." That was when a window opened, and several more objects came out - lengths of rebar and pipes. "I'm guessing that you can use everything in the building, including the building itself," said John. Bill chuckled. "That, or I can pick you up and throw you around. That can be more fun." "So, I take it that there's a special unit or something?" John asked. "Yep, but there's rules to follow, least of which is, no more Mugger Sandwiches - you're not allowed to hunt any humans down in order to eat them, even if they are the scum of the Earth," said Bill. "Do that, and we'll soon find out just what it takes to kill you." "What if they try to kill me first?" John asked. Bill grinned. "In that case, I'd hide the evidence in a swamp - tends to vanish quicker than in the septic system, or is less likely to be found at any rate, especially if it's fifty or miles away from the original kill site." "I see," said John. "How long do I have to decide? Do I need to do it now?" Bill moved his hands, and soon things were placed back to where they had been. "Let us put it this way; the unit doesn't like it when someone is forced to join - it's bad for moral," he said. "We prefer incentives - money and food tend to be good ones, along with help in entering a preferred collage, university, trade school, or place of employment for an agent's family members, among other things. If you want to join, you get all that and more. Also, we'd be able to have fewer secrets between us. Of course, if you don't want to join, well, within two weeks, which is what I'm going to give you in order to make up your mind, and clean out your fridge, just in case you do decide to join, well, I'll be transferred to another city, where I'll be partnered with another potential recruit for the unit, and you'll get a new partner, who will be in the dark as to what you are, unless they are one of ours, keeping an eye on you." "So, two weeks?" John asked. Bill nodded. "Something like this does require a bit of thought, as it can be rather dangerous, policing the monsters and such of the world, even for other monsters," said Bill. "I've made more than a few enemies, and I've lost more than a few friends in the line of duty. You're just the latest in a long line of potential recruits I've had to shadow. Not all have joined, but we've parted on good terms, and sometimes we ask each other for help." "So, suppose the two weeks pass, and you've left, but a month later, I decide that I want in?" John asked. Bill smiled. "In that case, give me a call, and I'll get you in touch with the local unit commander." "So, what about the missing criminals?" John asked. Bill chuckled. "Clear out the freezer and fridge, dump what you can't eat into a swamp an hour away, and I doubt anyone will ever find them." He turned around. "Only their mothers will miss them, and I doubt they'll miss them that much." |
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