On the Outskirts of Manhattan

Joshua Millens' head was pounding. It felt as if tiny red demons with long sharp fingers were living in his head. As if they flashed in and out of existence like a strobe light; confusing everything but making everything so much more painful. They were attacking him from the inside and his head was ready to explode at the smallest of impacts. The demons attacked his skull, doing everything they could to get out of the confined space that was getting smaller and smaller with the expansion of his brain. There was no room for anything in his skull anymore. His brain was taking up all the space, but that wasn't stopping the demons from demanding exit. He wanted desperately to press at his temples, to ease the ache just the slightest bit, but he knew even the slightest pressure would make his whole head burst open. He'd almost welcome death at this point; the intense ache felt like his brain was exploding inside his head. There was too much pressure, and he couldn't act like a sane human being while he was in that much pain. He couldn't act like a sane human being while he heard everything from inside the paper-thin walls of his apartment. He heard EVERYTHING.

The couple that lived next door just had a baby. Sure, he was happy for them three weeks ago when the kid first came home and Joshua didn't have a splitting headache. But now, all the couple did was fight, and when they weren't fighting, the baby was crying, and when the baby wasn't crying the couple was fighting over how much the baby was crying. It was a horrible, horrible experience. He just wanted to slam their heads into the concrete floors; the only solid thing in his whole building. He wanted to hear the satisfying crack of their skulls against concrete and watch as the sticky, red liquid leaked out onto the floor. Because the couple just wouldn't shut up, and their baby wouldn't shut up, and when the baby finally did stop crying long enough for it to fall asleep, the couple would start in a new argument that would stress against his brain just as much as the baby's crying did. He knew the satisfying picture of the couple's heads broken to bits on their kitchen floor was a horrible picture. It was a horrible, grotesque thing that he shouldn't be thinking about; but when the woman came over asking if he had any boiled water she could use for the baby's formula, he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, teeth bared, and slammed her head down hard on his own kitchen floor. His lip twitched at the sight of the blood spilling onto the floor. The woman's eyes were wide open. Surprised. Scared. Dead.

He knew he had to get out of the apartment. If the husband came over asking where his wife was, Joshua knew that he'd kill him too. His next best destination had been the park. That was usually a quiet enough space. Just the breeze expressed it's openness. And he was right, the breeze did express its happiness once he got there. Sitting on a bench, he was perfectly fine for all of ten seconds before the bee flew passed his head, intentionally buzzing in his ear. He was completely fine until the frisbee slammed into his leg. He was completely fine until the chuckling father and son jogged over to him with apologetic looks on their faces as they retrieved the frisbee. He was fine until then, but then he exploded. His huge brown and golden wolf burst right out of him. His senses took over, and the scents of all the people around him threw his wolf into a fit. He tackled both the boy and his father as one, clamping down on one neck and snapping it and then moving onto the other to stop their struggles. He took long drinks of their blood. The liquid rolled right out of them as chaos erupted around him, and then his head shot up in enough time for him to hunt down his next prey. He was in the process of taking bounding leaps toward a tall, beautiful, slim woman who had the most beautiful look of terror etched on her face when a searing hot pain so strong and fast threw his body to the left in mid-leap. His head pounded, his chest burned, but the intense need to kill overpowered him and he stood up, turning back toward the shocked woman. A new burning pain shot through him again. And again. And again.

Men in expensive black suits surrounded him, all aiming guns at his fierce wolf body. He could see their expensive shoes as he struggled to rise and attack the terrified woman before him. The men in suits didn't have the same scent that was drawing him to the woman.The men didn't produce the same kind of blood. Instead, the men produced more guns, and finally, almost mercifully, shot him in the temple. The tiny red demons were finally able to get free, spreading across the bright green of the park's grass. His last thought was of how much it reminded him of Christmas before the life left him completely. The men had him covered before his transformation back into human could even start.

The men in suits didn't look like they were the police, but they had all the witnesses rounded up and displayed badges while some men in plain clothes took the body away from the scene. People were confused. Where did the dog come from? Oh, it was a wolf? Well, where did that come from? It killed that man and little boy! I didn't even know their were wolves here...what? Oh, yes. I only noticed it after all the screaming started. Yes, sure, here's my card in case you need to get back in contact with me.

Some people wanted to know where the men in black suits came from. None of the men gave straight forward answers, but that was just how the Council worked. The Werewolf Council, more commonly known as the Council, was a powerful group that comprised of five werewolves feared by all. These five men were both feared and adored; loved and hated. They held every secret you ever revealed and knew your mistakes to come. And when that mistake came, the Council would deal with you accordingly. They had spies all around the world, they knew where you were at all times, they knew what you were doing and they knew who you were seeing. Those spies, often in plainclothes, were often followed by men in black suits. Once the men in black suits came, your life ended. Only wolves who lived outside of a pack—rogues—knew about these men. Only rogue wolves got killed.

Joshua's body was brought to the Council personally. It didn't stop at the human morgue, it didn't pass go, it didn't collect 200 dollars. The second it arrived on Dr. Caroline Winter's table, she set to work on it, just like the others.

Rogue wolves all over the country were going on sudden mass murder sprees. It had been happening more and more frequently since the Council was allowing families to move out into the human world. They were allowed to move into the human world under certain conditions: they check in at least once a year to hear any new rules or news that was note worthy, they didn't transform in front of humans, they didn't expose themselves, and they didn't eat humans. Lately, the last two rules were being ignored, and the rogue wolves were sufficiently taken care of. The humans' memories were sufficiently wiped if they had noticed the transformation. The common story: wolf attacks.

The charts were just rolling onto Dr. Winter's screen when her door was flung open and an old, fierce man walked in. He looked no more than thirty, but she knew he had been alive for centuries.

“RILEY!” Dr. Winters gasped at his entrance. The powerful man usually never entered her office, and when he did, it was always announced.

“What do you have for me Caroline?”

“They're going crazy,” she told him. “And attacking.”

The man turned around to the man guarding the door. The man there held himself confidently with his large muscles and looked ready to kill anyone who came close to him.

“Dawson? We're calling them all in. All rogues are required to be here within the next twenty-four hours.”