Worg Wolf

Issue #1 Origin

1792, there was a large push to colonize the new world, and a merchant vessel bound for the American continents were a virgining marketplace for traders from across the sea. 

One ship, the Merry Rose was docked at Britain shipyard, awaiting a valuable piece of cargo, being delivered to a powerful man in America. Just as Captain Jack Phillips waited on deck, he saw the conservatively dressed client walk down the dock, his dark clothes making him look as if he were in mourning. 

“Permission to come aboard?” the foppish aristocratic client asked as he waited for admittance to board the Merry Rose. 

“I don’t think I’d get paid if I didn’t.” the Captain said sardonically, as he noticed the client carrying an ebony box under his right arm. 

“Droll.” was all the man said, as he sniffed from his snuff box and climbed the ramp where he handed the Captain the black box. “This my fine sailor is to be locked in your most secure facility. It is not to be disturbed in any way, understood? Doing so will forfeit your pay, and put your liberty in jeopardy.” 

Captain Phillips' dark eyes couldn’t help but feel something sinister from within the body, it felt almost like nothing, but he could feel something inside. 

“It is not to be opened.” reminded the client with a sharp harshness, that darkened the sunny spring day. “Deliver it at the agreed upon location in Georgia, by the agreed upon date.” 

“That is well understood.” Captain Phillips responded with a hardened tone, showing his dislike to being talked to in such a manner. “I haven’t failed in my duties yet. This box will make it unspoiled to the client.” 

Captain Phillips was a strong, raven haired man, with an angular chin, and a charming speaking voice. Speaking in such certainty won him many contracts, including the most recent one that was quite lucrative. Seeing how the aristocrat was satisfied, he watched as the dark dressed man left, seemingly vanishing in the growing crowd on the docks. 

By midday they set sail, and traveled the seas, on a well laid route to the Americas, unaware it would be his last voyage. 

***

Blood froze in his veins, Captain Phillips had fled for his life. Ship destroyed, the crew butchered to the last, and he was being hunted by sinister powers that would see him destroyed, and mankind utterly doomed. 

Fleeing to the northern territories, he spent months on the run, barely having enough to eat, not sleeping a wink. Black bags formed under his eyes, and he became unkempt, looking more like a red Indian at times than a white man. Finally after he lost his pursuers, he made it to a wooded glen, hidden from the civilized world, where he finally hid his burden. 

The key to mankind's destruction, digging into the grass and soil with his bare fingers, he buried the black box there, and covered it in a mound of dirt. From then on Jack Phillips vowed he would spend the rest of his life in that area, to keep an eye on the black box. Spending the rest of his life protecting it from discovery, fearful of what may happen if it was ever discovered. 

***

Modern day Howard Phillips, “HP” to the other kids and friends (if he had any), had nearly finished his terrible first day of middle school. Twelve going on thirteen, he got lost when his class schedule was stolen by the bullies from elementary school. He got after school detention for being late, and causing the Vice Principal to spill his coffee on himself, cause he was running to his class after the bell rang. 

Then after school he was strung up by the elastic band on his underwear by the football team, because the captain thought he was looking at his girlfriend during her stretches (which he was). 

Fortunately his foster parents couldn’t afford to get him new clothes, so his underwear snapped under his own weight. Gloomy black eyes, weighed down by black, sleep deprived bags, shaggy raven dark hair, and wearing an oversized dark green jumper his dad used to own, Howard was not a popular guy. 

He didn’t look popular, act it, and definitely wasn’t treated like he was, but he craved it, he wanted acceptance, and a girlfriend. Someone who he could feel some semblance of love from, since he was deprived of it for so long. 

Not a penny to his name, he couldn’t even afford a bike, so when he was kept after school, and held up by the football team, he missed his bus. 

Eldwood Middleschool was enshrouded in darkness from the early nightfall, the autumn chill was in the air, and he would’ve missed dinner at home. Not wanting to miss curfew and be grounded, he decided it was best to cut through the woods that surrounded the cloistered town.

Far enough from the nearest city not to see the lights in the sky, you could still hear the distant echo of it, even if that community, half hidden in the trees. Eldwood was a closeted community, filled with mostly rich kids whose parents worked in Toronto, but kept their children as far away as possible. 

Howard lived there back when Eldwood was just a small town, before the rich came, before his parents died. Memories of it still made him anxious, and upset so he kept quiet, as he slowly buried his feelings. Walking through the brush, and under the dense trees, he never went into that dense part of the forest before. Often taking the more maintained trail paths, he only took the unknown path because he wanted to make it home in time. 

Pushing through branches, and scratching his legs on the brush, he cursed himself for wearing shorts, but he didn’t have any more pants. 

Forcing his way through a last tangle of branches and overgrowth, he fell headlong down a steep dirt cliff. Tumbling over he scraped his head, and bruised himself as he fell, dirtying his clothes. 

Thankfully he didn’t break anything, but it still hurt to pick himself off the ground. Stumbling into an open glade, Howard followed the moonlight that shone down from the cloudless night sky, but the further he went into the trees the harder it became to see. 

Nothing but shadows were before him, he couldn’t even see the stars in the sky, it was as if he was swallowed by some terrible beast. Shivering from the cold, he tucked himself into his jumper, and tried to find his way out. 

That was when a blue, pale light came in from the gap in branches above head. A lone beam of light that shone down, and revealed something growing out of the dirt. It was a gnarled plant, with a flower on its long stem, that was as beautifully pallid as the moon. Glowing almost, he felt drawn to it, he wanted to reach out and touch it, but in his almost hypnotic state, he didn’t realize it was covered in thorns. 

Touching it, he felt an immediate pain on his left forefinger. With drawing it, he saw a zesty crimson drip from his finger wound, in the light of the moon. Then almost instantly his fingers became elongated, his nails sharpened and grew, and as he did, the stranger moonlight plant he touched withered. 

The bloom on its top withered into a black bulb, and the thorns retracted. As his eyes watered over, Howard Phillips saw the shadows around him vanish into a clear daylight (according to his new animalistic eyes). 

Fur covered his body, and seemed to envelop his clothes as well, as his ears became horn-like, curving upwards, sprouting strands of air. 

Hunching over in exhilarating agony, he straightened himself and let out a feral howl, raising his voice to the moon in the sky, before dashing off into the forest. 

***

Jean Wattburg was looking after her parents' convenience store as they watched television back home, which was a block away behind the store. Reading through the latest issue of Occultist Annually, she let out a weary sigh when she heard the bell above the door start ringing. Only burnouts and juvenile jerks came in at that time of night, and of course it was football Captain Clark Caesar. 

Not too bad as far as jerks go, but he was enough to make her roll her eyes as soon as he came into the store with that smirk on his face. Two of his friends were there also, Bruce Walters and Pete Pilgrim, those two were the instigators. 

“Hey Jeanie, how are we tonight?” Clark said in a half-joking voice. 

“You guys better not trash the store again, my folks are just around back!” she glared daggers at them, as Clark stood at the counter, while his friends bemused the snack section. 

“Relax, okay. That was—” he failed to find the words to put a more positive spin on blatant property damage. “—bad, and we’re sorry.” 

“Yeah real sowwy.” Pete mocked. 

“Shut up, I’m serious!” Clark tried to be nice, but Pete and Bruce were like two devils on his shoulders, always pushing him to be the stereotypical jerky jock. “Look, that was mostly them, I’m sorry I didn’t stop it, honest.” Clark gave Jean a sullen look of genuine contrition, and she half-accepted with a sigh and a nod. 

“Just don’t cause trouble.” she warned, as the football players piled snacks on the counter. 

As the pre-teens inside prepared to stock up on late night snack foods, a malicious stranger was parked just outside the store. In a dark green car, a spree robber, known in the media as the Green Face Robber, parked just outside, making sure the coast was clear. 

The cops weren’t out, and the store seemed to be run by a little girl. That was perfect, since all he’d have to do is wave his gun around and he can easily make away with the contents of the till. 

Putting on his horrific green monster Halloween mask, he removed the safety on his pistol, and in a meth fueled rush, left his car, charged into the store brandishing his firearm. 

***

Howard was running through the trees, with the flight footedness of an animal, the speed of an Olympic runner, and with the size and force of a speeding semi-truck. Twigs and brush snapped and were crushed under his massive weight, and he pushed aside trees with little effort. 

Filled with an eager excitement, he seemed tireless as he had run miles in a matter of minutes. Showing no self-consciousness for his new, bestial form he leapt from the forest, and onto Eldwood streets. Hitting the concrete street with the force of a falling star, his wolfish clawed feet became embedded into the street, leaving behind the imprints of a giant wolf’s paws.

As he was about to let out another howl, the night air of the quiet town was fractured by a screech of fright, and heart stiffening, puncturing shots of a gun. 

Coming from the convenience store, Howard could pinpoint the exact location of the sounds of trouble, and despite his liberated, unrestrained mind state he felt compelled to investigate the sounds of danger. Running down the street he found himself instinctively lunging, and propelling himself with his massive arms. Digging his claws into the concrete he threw himself forward, landing on his paw padded feet, ready to speed away in a full run. 

In less than a few seconds he came to the Wattburg Convenience Store, and through the glass doors he saw a robbery in progress. A man in a green monster mask was pointing his gun at Clark Caesar, ‘Jerk’ Captain of the football team. 

Along with his two stooge friends who hours ago made him miss his bus, and ruined one of his best pairs of underwear. Howard watched from the darkness, his glowing, yellow eyes watching his tormentor get to feel powerless and scared, 

Content to stand back and watch things play out, Howard however felt his chest grow tight when he saw Jean was behind the counter. Purple hair Jean, she was a ginger haired in elementary school, but she was going through what her parents call a “phase.” 

No matter what phase she was in, he still had feelings for her, as she was his first crush, but he never had the courage to talk to her directly. At first sight he thought she was pretty, and cheerful, and even as she is more of a downer, she is still really nice. Just as he felt the conflict start in him, between staying back and intervening, he saw the Green Masked robber point his gun, directly between her eyes. 

As if he could see into the future, he saw the twitching in his fingers, betray his intent to pull the trigger, he was going to shoot her, and then everything went white. Forced onward by his new instincts, he charged to stop the deadly prediction, smashing his seven foot tall body through the store door. 

Glass, and the metal frame of the door fell onto the floor, as everyone let out a horrified scream. Jean ducked beneath the counter, and Clark and his friends screamed as they moved to the far corner of the store. Bruce couldn’t stop screaming hysterically as if he was a little girl, and needed to be dragged by Clark out of the way. 

“Who are you?!” Green Mask shouted out, as he shot first before the question fully left his drug burned mouth. A sharp, bombastic blast echoed in the store, as a spent shell landed on the floor. 

The large, black furred monster let out a growling grunt as the bullet hit his chest, but the impact was severely impeded by his thick layer of fur. It was as if he was wearing a full body bullet proof vest. 

Growling and snarling at the robber, Howard didn’t think, and he rushed Green Face, who tried to empty his gun into the monster, but after the third arm, his gun arm was grabbed and within one sharp twist the bone was snapped in two. A gargling scream came from his mouth as he dropped the gun, and cried in agony. 

“YoU wErE gOnNa HuRt JeAn!” was all the beast could say through his drool dripping fangs, as he brutalized the robber. Beating him, scratching at his clothes, he might’ve killed him, if a fragment of human decency in his mind kept him from going that far. 

Suddenly he heard something, distant, no one could hear them yet, police sirens. His sharp hearing could hear the wailing alarm of incoming help, Howard let go of the brutalized robber. 

Green Face fell half-alive to the ground, and Howard ran from the store before the trigger happy crook hit the ground. Waiting a few moments, Jean heard the sirens of police coming, as she looked at the damage to her parents store, she looked over to see the robber lying bloodied, but alive on the floor. 

Clark and his friends were still huddled at the far end, scarred into a silent, trembling state as if they were puppies terrified of their first bath. 

“Was that a werewolf?” were the first words she said, as she looked out into the night street, wondering if that was what she really saw. 

***

Howard awoke in his bed, his head was throbbing, and his body was sore all over. Weak legged, he rose to the alarm clock beside his bed, and got dressed for school that day, before heading down to the kitchen. 

His foster parents Martha and Glenn were at the table. Glenn, an older man, was reading his newspaper pretending to pay little heed to Howard as he entered the room. 

“I know it's the first day of school Howard, but if you’re late coming home again tonight, you’re grounded.” Martha told him with a stern but reasonable voice. 

“Sorry. I missed the late bus, that's all.” Howard tried to defend himself. 

“Well make sure you don’t miss it again.” Glenn added, as he turned the page, before he turned away noticing something different about his foster son. “Where did you get that furry jumper?” he asked, as he didn’t remember buying him that stranger looking long neck sweater and hood, looking as if it was made of soft, black fur. There was what looked like a tail coming out its back, giving it a look of novelty piece of clothing to make its wearer resemble a wolf. 

“I had it for a while…” Howard said, sounding convincing enough for it not to be followed up on, “...I just haven’t worn it till now.” 

Glenn grunted his acceptance of that and turned back to his paper. 

“Here.” Martha said, giving him a plate of eggs and toast. “Eat and get going before you miss your bus.” 

Howard sat down at the table, wolfed down his food, not realizing how ravenous he had become after last night.