Silver Bullets n' Roses - 7. History

Originally, Matt had only thought of being coerced into going back to Lycansbro as a mere inconvenience in his non-schedule. However, upon arriving he stared up at the intimidating building, its sharp edges menacingly punctuating the clear blue sky, and his insides turned to mush. All the memories of that night - Gabriel's fangs in his shoulder, his wrong-feeling kiss, the sterile smell of that cramped little room, and the piercing light in his eyes - returned to him with a shock. He paused, resisting the urge to shiver.

"Come on," Severin urged. "This place is home to me. There's nothing here that's going to hurt you."

"I remember it quite differently," Matt said faintly. He didn't like being a chicken-shit in front of Severin all the time, but his legs didn't seem to want to obey his inner commands of moving forward.

Severin moved in front of him, looking down into Matt's eyes with his own piercing gaze. His mouth was set in a way that said he was trying to figure Matt out. "You know..." he began slowly, "if you're going to be a werewolf-and let's face it, you are whether you want to or not-you can't be afraid of trying new things."

"It's not new. That's the problem," Matt retorted.

Severin rolled his eyes and pulled on Matt's arm, putting some of his superior strength behind it. Matt was forced to stumble after or fall on his face. Giving Severin a death glare, he straightened and regained his composure to continue resolutely at his side.

Severin held his arm for slightly longer then strictly necessary before returning Matt's hostility with a look of indifference.

Just as Severin's hand touched the handle of the door, it opened from inside and a tattooed twenty-something came rushing out.

Elaborate designs intertwined his corded arms, which were revealed under his wifebeater. He smiled at them and said quite pleasantly, "Hello, Sev."

Severin nodded back. "Hey, Drey. How's Hagis?"

"Swallowed a ceramic stone, the dolt. He's getting his stomach pumped."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"Of course," sniffed Drey. "I'm more worried about the stone. It was sacred in my family."

"Hope you get it back. Look, I have to give him the grand tour." Severin nodded that Matt. "I'll see you around, kay?"

"All in good time, Sev. Blessed be." Just like that, the guy turned around, and, as if there was an invisible doorway in front of him, walked into the unseen.

Matt, who stood silently a few steps away because he sensed something off about the guy, returned to Severin's side. "What was that about?"

"Who, Dreyfus? Oh, he's a regular. Dropping off his pet python, Hagis."

"Python? Figures. But what was he...?"

Severin cast him a slightly surprised look that he didn't think Matt saw. "Dreyfus is a sorcerer."

Matt nodded, trying not to spaz out about the existence of sorcerers. Honestly, just when he was getting used to the idea of werewolves thishad to be sprung on him. What next, fairies?

"There are a lot of beings out there besides werewolves, you know," Severin said casually, as if reading his mind. He held the door open for a slightly dazed Matt.

The sterile smell assaulted Matt's nostrils as they entered the too-white walls of the waiting room. He was beginning to hate everything that had to do with medical facilities.

The half a dozen or so people in the waiting room with their cats, dogs, and annoying birds all glared at them for apparently disturbing the silence. Was it just his imagination, or did all the dogs seem especially alert?

Severin smiled charmingly at them in welcome and quickly led Matt through a doorway into some back room.

It was like stepping into a whole new world. Gone was the over-sterilized stench of waiting room and a new mix of smells put Matt's olfactory glands into sensory overdrive. Over the last few days, Matt's sense of smell had gotten pretty acute - to the point that he noticed that Severin didn't smell like other humans, which freaked him out.

After his nose got used to the shock, Matt's eyes finally responded. It was quite a bit dimmer back here, with just enough light so that it wasn't too creepy. They'd walked into a large hallway, branching off into several smaller hallways, some leading upstairs.

"Cobaine is in the arena," Severin said quietly, and Matt realized, with a blush, that his scoping out hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Arena?"

"'Course," was Severin's only reply.

The area became a bit more populous on the second floor, and it looked considerably more comfortable than the bottom floor. Half the floor was made up of a living room setting. The floor was covered with cheap, worn rugs and the sofas and armchairs were placed somewhat randomly. Teenagers were scattered around here. The other half - just visible down another short hallway - was obviously some sort of boarding.

"There's two a room," Severin said. "Well, Jordan sleeps alone. There are nineteen of us. Cobaine and the other older 'wolves have secluded rooms downstairs."

"Newbie?"

Matt struggled not the jump at the sound of the girl's voice. She had gotten off her couch and had slunk over to them with complete silence and ease. She had way more control over her limbs than most teenage girls, moving almost catlike, a mischievous smile played at her lips.

"How old is he? He looks young." She spoke to Severin, as if Matt wasn't there.

His inner bitch reared her ugly head then. He gave an exaggerated gasp to get her attention and touched his chest. "My, oh my. I'm tangible. Maybe you should get your eyes checked, because I'm clearly here."

Judging by the huge grin on Severin's face and the widening of Catwoman's eyes, he'd said the right thing.

"You've got balls, kid. I like that." She floated closer to him, giving him only about six inches of space, that same smile still there.

Matt's heart pounded, not necessarily from fear. Yes, she made him slightly uncomfortable, but in a good way. Raw strength emanated from her and almost seemed to stroke his very soul, eliciting pleasure from the rush. She was hot, in the exact opposite way that Karyn was. This girl was some kind of rocker-Goth mix, with long, silky black hair and milky white skin. Her eyes were hazel, occasionally flashing between startlingly green and coppery brown.

"You're strong," she hissed in his ear. Her breath on his skin brought shivers down his spine. "Who're your parents?"

"They're human." The spell was broken and he managed to step away from her, closer to Severin.

For a moment there was confusion in her eyes, and then it clicked. "Oh. This is the one that was bitten." She directed her attention back to Severin.

"Yes. I don't think either of us want to give you the entire story, so we need to go find Cobaine. Unless you know where he is, stop wasting our time."

The words were harsh, but said lightly. One second the girl was standing at the other side of Matt and the next her nose was less than an inch from Severin's, her corseted breasts almost touching his chest. The smile had developed into a wide grin. "Time was never wasted between us. Cobaine is in the arena, training with someone."

With those words and the chemistry crackling between them, Matt saw it. They had been involved. They'd slept together at some point in time, and a small part of him ached to know if they still did.

She reluctantly moved away from Severin and her voice was once again in his ear. "My name's Sayora." And then she was gone.

Matt and Severin stared at each other for a few seconds, still basking in her aftershock. Matt found his voice first. "She's....a character."

"To put it mildly. She's not as scary as she looks. We used to date."

Used to? Matt hated that tiny part of him that jumped up at those words like a puppy.

The setup of the "arena" was quite simple, really: just a big door with an office label of what it was across the top. Practically from the floor below, Matt could hear what sounded like a bear fight at the other end - snapping, snarling, and the sound of bodies being thrown against the walls. The sound intensified here.

"Don't the humans ask questions about all the noise?" he asked. Inwardly he was depressed at how easily it was to refer to humans as if they were a separate species.

"The walls are soundproof, and humans can't hear half as well as you or I can." Severin reached out for the doorknob and paused to look back at Matt. "I know the first time you saw a werewolf it wasn't pleasant, so you're not going to freak out on me, are you?"

"I can't promise anything."

Severin gave him a grim smile. "Good. One of the first things you learn when you hang with us is to never trust anyone new."

"I trust you."

Mentally, he kicked himself. Why did he just say that? However, even as the words left his lips he knew it was true. He trusted Severin more than anyone else - which wasn't really saying much.

Severin mumbled something in response that Matt didn't quite catch. "Just stay behind me and step outside if it's too much," he said, and opened the door.

It looked like solitary confinement at a mental asylum, except ten times bigger. The room was about twenty feet tall and about sixty feet in length, easily taking up most of the third floor. The walls were lined with soft padding, making a sound like a deflated balloon as a blur of color slammed into it right over their heads.

Severin pulled a stunned Matt out of the way as the brown creature slid to the ground with a grunt and got shakily to its feet, shaking its head vigorously as if to clear it. It turned to look at Severin and Matt, its eyes locking temporarily with Matt's.

In that single glance Matt saw more than just a monster...as Severin had said once, werewolves really were just like people. There was nothing animal about those deep brown eyes. Matt took in the rest of the 'wolf, noting that it looked like a cross between a bear and real wolf: four long, slender legs supporting a beefy, top heavy body. The shoulders and chest were huge and muscular even under the thick, light brown coat. The claws were curved and lethal, and the long muzzle was full of jagged teeth. This werewolf in particular was quite a bit smaller than Gabriel. On all fours, its shoulders weren't much higher than Matt's head.

A roar emanated from the other end of the arena. The kid-wolf snapped its head in that direction, growling. Its opponent was much bigger, even more so than Gabriel. It looked at Matt with swirling brown and black eyes and Matt felt a sense of familiarity. Cobaine.

The light brown wolf took an uncertain step towards Cobaine and halted, head tilted as if listening to something Matt couldn't hear. After a moment of silence, it sat and its fur rippled slightly; in a movement almost too fast for Matt to see, the creature shrank and morphed into a towel-clad, male figure. A boy, actually.

Cobaine walked toward them in human form, looking just as broad and intimidating as he had the night Matt met him - probably even more so now that every part of his rippling upper body was revealed. Why were all these guys ripped? "Jake, how many times have I told you pay attention?" The way he ruffled the kid's hair took the edge off his words. He smiled at Matt.

"Matt. Nice to meet you again. On better terms."

"Yeah. At least I'm clothed this time." Shit, that came out wrong. The boy at Cobaine's side grinned wickedly.

He was adorable. He was even tinier than Matt, but looked about his age or a little younger. He had the kind of grin that could break a few hearts when he was older - hell, he was a heartbreaker now. His shoulder-length skater hair was all over the place, framing a youthful, almost androgynous face and huge brown eyes. With his turned up, button nose he looked more like an elf than a werewolf.

"This is Jake," Cobaine said, motioning at the kid. "Jake, this is Matt. He's one of the uh...alternatively-made werewolves."

"I've never met one before," said Jake, staring at Matt like he was the missing link. Then he shrugged, as if it were no big deal. "He doesn't look too different. 'Cept he's powerful."

Sayora had said the same thing. Matt certainly didn't feel strong. Especially after the performance he had just witnessed.

"Jack, why don't you go watch the front desk?" Cobaine asked the kid, "I need to talk to Matt for a bit."

Jack looked a bit put off at being not-so-subtly banished, but with a last cute grin in Matt's direction, he departed in eerie werewolf speed.

For a moment the remaining three just stared awkwardly at each other. Perhaps, like Matt, the other two were thinking about the last time they had been together. Finally, Cobaine cleared his throat and asked:

"So, any transforming since we left off?"

It may seem strange, but Matt had completely forgotten that one day, he would turn into one of the bear/wolf things he had just seen moments before. "Um...no. Was I supposed to?"

"Well, usually the first Change doesn't occur until a month or so after the bite. The body's taking time to adjust. However, you turned pretty quickly so I suspected you might get some signs earlier than most."

"What sort of signs?"

"Oh, pretty violent ones."

He said it so bluntly even Severin glared at him. Severin cleared his throat and said, "For the Bitten, usually it's...painful. Completing the turnaround is painful enough - pure agony, actually, because every single one of your cells is being changed and your bones are turning to rubber. You're lucky you were out cold for most of it.The first Change isn't as bad, but it's, well, bad. You'll get a raging fever beforehand. After that, the Changes should come"-he snapped his fingers -"like that."

Matt felt like a pregnant woman being told about labor in detail: nervous, but resolved. Trying to take it in stride, he asked, "So, what am I here for? You didn't drag me here just to give me nightmares."

"You are curious about where all this comes from, aren't you? I brought you here so Cobaine could clarify things for you. It's not fair to be dragged into this without knowing a thing about it."

"I guess. So what are werewolves? An experiment gone wrong, a mutation, a curse?"

Cobaine snorted as he pulled a muscle-shirt over his head. "Please. This isn't a horror movie. To understand what we are, you have to understand a belief system extremely ancient and forgotten from human thought."

Matt lowered himself cross-legged on the hard floor, motioning for him to continue. He never was a fan of history, but werewolves weren't typically covered in Mrs. Worester's class.

Cobaine paced before them. "I'm sure you know that before there was light, there was darkness. That's what we're made from. For us, Darkness isn't simply a thing. It is an entity. It's our God, I guess you'd call it.

The different sects of beings - we're called the Heir - are physical manifestations of it's corporeal body. From the face came the vampires. That's what makes some vampires think they possess Darkness in its purest form, but in reality, no sect is more important than another. From his hands and therefore his fingers, the Little People; from his hair, the whimsical beasts; from his muscles, he made us, the 'wolves. Then, his quickness became the Felini - you'll learn about them later - and from his voice, the magic-using bunch. You following me so far, Matt?"

"Yeah, I got you."

"Good, because this is where it gets stranger. As the legend goes, after he made all these races, he fed them their respective parts of his body, which gave them his powers. The only thing he kept was his core, which still exists around us. That darkness is the same one that's in corners, under beds, nighttime, all that jazz. The universe needs a fair balance of darkness and light. If Darkness reforms, the light becomes too great and it will burn up all the humans and the life force will be ripped away from the Heir. Thankfully, that will probably never happen."

"Why not?"

"Forget everything you know about light being good and dark being bad. Actually, neither is purely good or evil; they only interact to keep the universe running. If they don't chaos ensues and no one wants that. He wouldn't wipe out mankind just because he can. Besides, it would be pretty boring in the cosmos without humans and Heir to mess around with, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that makes sense. But if there are so many...things like us out there, then why doesn't anyone know about us?"

"We've existed since the world was made; we've had times to perfect ways to stay out of public eye. Humans naturally want to destroy what they don't understand; a lot of us have been hunted for centuries before we faded back into folklore. Think of the Salem witch trials. It seemed very real back then, but I doubt you'll find many people that seriously believe in witches today. Some of us, like wolves, vamps, and magic-users, can look human. Unusually good looking and powerful humans, but human all the same. Some can become invisible, or humans simply can't see them."

"Wow," was all Matt could say. To imagine, all his life he had lived in ignorance of beings that he had only ever heard of in fairy tales, and they had been right here in Lycansbro all this time.

"Do you have any more questions?"

"Not about the Heir, no." He leaned forward. "I want to know about Gabriel."

"He was the ‘one that flew over the cuckoo's nest' basically."

"What do you mean?"

"Good werewolf gone bad. Us werewolves, we're fighters naturally. I'll be lying to you if I said we're not meant to destroy. It's what we use our savagery for that makes some of us evil. That being said, Gabriel's family chose the wrong path. There are some of us 'wolves that want to overthrow vampires because there are some vampire cults that want to control all the supernatural races. Those 'wolves want to keep the vampires in check...and then control the races themselves. Kinda defeats the purpose, right? Gabriel's father, Viktor, was one of the first werewolves that developed the idea of authoritarianism - and that was over three hundred years ago."

"Damn, how old is Gabriel, then?"

"Younger than me. About a hundred. Yes, we do age, Matt, just very slowly."

The statement made Matt wonder how old Cobaine was, or even Severin for that matter. The question suddenly bothered him quite a bit, and as if Cobaine was reading his mind, he said:

"Severin is the age he appears. We continue to age normally until about twenty-five or so, sometimes younger. I am two hundred years old. We tend to die off in battle before we reach the max, though...Anyway, Gabriel's aim is to rule werewolves, and eventually the other branches. Most werewolves don't agree with him, so he turns human beings and trains them to join his army."

"Which is what he was trying to do with me," said Matt.

"Exactly. His idea is actually pretty clever. Humans that are newly turned have no idea about our affairs, our religion, or the way we operate at all. It takes only a matter of persuasion for him to make them his. He typically aims for the strong, but usually weak-willed or lost. The fact that you refused to bow down to him is remarkable. This means that you're spiritually strong for a human."

"What does that mean?"

"While you had no powers of your own, you have an amazing amount of will power. You probably gave off energy which made your aura stronger than others. Gabriel likes that. As a human, and probably as a werewolf now, you might be immune to some magic. Special humans usually come in two categories: they either give off energy, or they suck it up. The latter are called Drainers."

"Drainers?"

"They could take our powers away from us and use them temporarily as their own. Most Drainers don't even know that they are such. Be thankful you're not one. If you were bitten and a Drainer, your aura would have literally eaten you away."

Matt shivered. "H-how did you save me that night?"

"Literally by chance. You're a lucky bastard, you know that?" He grinned at him. "We were just as surprised to come across Gabriel as he was. Everyone knows what Gabriel does; no one has dared to stop him, and there's not enough proof to bring him before the Council. It's not like any of his followers would give him away. He has a lot of control over our government, you see. No one has ever stopped Gabriel before, and we can guarantee he's not going to give you up willingly. You're far too strong."

"Then how do I keep him away from me?"

"But letting us train you and look after you until you handle yourself. After that, the decision is yours."

"What decision."

"Whether you want to join our pack and fight with us, or stay uninvolved and enjoy the remainder of your normalcy. Either way, we have to teach you some things."

Matt felt his insides shrivel at the thought of battling anything. "I'm not a fighter. At all. I'm the one that gets his ass kicked all the time. Things...bad things happen to me, okay?"

Cobaine saw the pain in Matt's eyes and knew he was hiding something, but decided not to press it. "You're going to have to learn, I'm afraid. If you're afraid of getting hurt, don't worry about it. We're extremely resilient."

Matt sighed, realizing that every time he tried to resist what was happening to him, it ended up happening anyway. "When do I begin?"

"Whenever you hit your first change, which I sense is very, very soon. Severin can help you with the basics until then."

Matt glanced at Severin, who met his gaze and moved his lips in small smile.

Cobaine looked at his watch. "It's getting late, and I suppose your parents are waiting for you."

Damn it. With any luck, maybe Larry wouldn't care.

Fat chance.