NEW: Introducing Tap. Addictive chat stories for your 📲 Now in 10 languages
DOWNLOAD NOW!

Lycan

            Ba-dum... Ba-dum... Ba-dum...

            Dr. Jordan Grales could hear his heart beating faintly as he lay strapped to a gourney in his room at Crystal Springs General. 

            The last thing he remembered was being nearly torn to shreds by a beast that attacked NoirTech. 

            He figured that he should not have survived the assault, yet here he was, alive and a little less than well.

            He ran his finger across his chest, feeling the outline of the massive wound that stretched across his torso, one not unlike shark attack victims. 

            Surprisingly, he felt no pain from his wounds, only an extreme dizziness.  His attention turned to his arm, where an series of IVs were inserted. 

            "Morphine,"  he muttered.  He instinctively flexed his arm.  To his surprise, the needles quickly slid out of his arm and clanged softly on the ground, leaking their various fluids onto the ground.

            "Hmmm... Interesting," he remarked.  He quickly noticed the cause of this occurence.  Despite a relative lack of muscle mass gain, his arms had become wired with muscle, thus causing the needles to be forced out when he flexed.

            Now that the needles had been removed, Dr. Grales could feel energy and vitality returning to his body. 

            He stumbled to the mirror in his hotel room.  He was surprised by the face that stared back at him.  What little meat he had on his body had faded.  He found himself smiling at the ridiculousness of his reflection.

            Suddenly, his heart began to race.  He clutched his chest as his breath began to shorten. 

            He threw himself from the gourney as his symptoms began to worsen.  He dropped to the floor just as darkness began to envelope him.  He didn’t need a medical degree to know what was happening.  He was dying… 

            “D***it, Jordan,” he muttered as his world faded to black.

            “Are you ready?” Ronnie asked, peering around the corner. 

            “Gimme a minute,” Cid responded, as he attempted to straighten the black tie around his neck.

            “Cool, I’ll be in the living room,” Ronnie stated as he left the room.

            Cid turned to the picture of his mom and dad.  “How do I look?” he asked the picture, holding his arms out as if to seek the picture’s approval. 

            He let out a small sigh.  “Yeah… black’s not really my color, but what else are you going to wear to a funeral?” he muttered as he turned to leave the room.

            “Are we ready to leave?” King asked as Cid entered the common area. 

            “We need to pick up Celine,” Cid reminded him.

            “I’m well aware, which is why we need to leave,” King remarked.

            “Bacon!” Ronnie shouted, not wanting his presence to be forgotten.

            “Let’s go,” King stated as he got up to leave. 

            “It is with a heavy heart that we gather here today, two weeks and one day after a violent battle took place on our very streets, taking the lives of several friends and family,” the Mayor stated.  “We now know that the creature that attacked our city has been confirmed as deceased.  The nightmare is over.  The valiant and efficient work of our police force ensured that the monster would claim no more lives,” he continued, gesturing towards the police officers gathered at the front.

TNG:  Iblis, the First HeroRead this story for FREE!