New Findings

As dawn begins, Daren starts to wonder if his werewolf form is based on the full moon. 'It can't be.' He's met two werewolves already, and they didn't need to wait.

This just keeps getting better for him. All the stupid movies that say werewolves can only transform during a full moon are full of shit. What good is it if you can only transform once a month. That sounds like a period.

Daren needs to transform back into his human form before someone sees him. 'But how do I do that?'

He tries everything he can think of, but nothing seems to work. 'Really? Am I going to be stuck in my werewolf form for the rest of my life? I just need to keep trying.'

Daren tries to invision himself turning back into his human form. But after half an hour, he gives up. 'There must be another way.'

He tries it again, this time, telling his body that any form will do. He doesn't care if he looks the same as he did before. 'How does this work? I should have asked them a few questions. That bastard left before I was able to talk again. Wait a minute. I forgot to ask how magic works as well.'

Daren becomes frustrated at his own stupidity. He'll have to figure out everything by himself unless he can manage to contact Fenrir or the female wolf. 'I should have asked for her name. She's cute.' Daren shakes his head. 'She's out of my league. I can try to impress her, or I can create my own harem.'

'No, no, no. Isn't one girl enough?' Daren can't decide. 'Two or three should be plenty.'

Daren made up his mind. He's going to try and get as many girls as he can. But what's the best way to go about this? 'Cult leaders seem to get everything they want through manipulation.' But he doesn't know how to run a cult.

'First things first. I need to create an underground criminal syndicate.' Daren sets his morals aside and decides that he can coax the women into having sex with him if he promises them power. 'That is technically rape. On the other hand, who's going to stop me? No, I won't stoop to that level unless I need to.'

Daren tries to shift his form once more. This time, settling on a different approach. If he can't change back into a human, he can try changing into a wild wolf. 'At least I would be able to run around without casting too much attention.'

He tries and tries again, but nothing works. It's in his best interest to find a place to hide until nightfall. He heads towards the road, looking for a manhole cover. He doesn't enjoy the thought of being a sewer rat, but this is the only option he has.

He waits until there's no one around and heads towards the nearest manhole cover. He manages to pick it up without a problem. He's not surprised, even though it weighs nearly three hundred pounds.

He puts it back into place and jumps down into the sewer. The smell is wretched, and the floor and walls are filled with grime. Rats scatter away from him, water dripping on the concrete echos through the tunnel.

His eyes give him an advantage in this dark and dreary place. Humans will need to use flashlights, but he has naturally occurring night vision.

Standing in this place doesn't give him hope for the future. It feels like he's starting from square one again. He fears that he may never be able to watch anime or play video games again. Old habits die hard. Perhaps he'll grow out of those urges.

He leans against the wall and inspects his hands. He takes notice of every detail, his claws should be classified as deadly weapons.

The only good thing about being down here is that no one will bother him. It's a double-edged sword. On one hand, he wants fame and birches to fuck. But on the other hand, he knows he won't be hunted down if he keeps a low profile.

He crosses his arms and sighs. He has all day to plan out his future. But he needs to figure out what his physical limitations are now. He walks the tunnels while sliding his claws against the walls. He needs to think. If this is going to be a temporary base of operations, then he needs to map this place out.

Slow and steady wins the race. He reminds himself of this simple concept to prevent his mind from going insane. He needs to stay calm. Getting frustrated will only make things worse.

After hours of mapping the tunnels, he comes up with a plan. He needs henchmen. Someone to move freely above the surface during the day. If he is ever going to have a chance of taking over this God forsaken city, he needs to be working around the clock.

That's his goal, and that's his plan. He'll work from the shadows until the time is right to strike. It may take years or even decades. But he has all the time in the world. 'Werewolves are immortal, right?' Daren punches the concrete wall out of frustration. His stupidity is sure to catch up to him one of these days.

Just before he takes another step, he looks at the wall he just punched. There's a hole several inches deep. There's a perfect imprint of his knuckles.

"That's right. I wanted to see how strong I've become." He says with a large grin on his face. "Since I can rapidly regenerate my flesh, I don't have to worry about seriously injuring myself."

Daren faces the concrete wall and positions his body into a fighting stance. He takes a quick swipe at the wall with his claws. He expected them to glide across the surface, barely making a scratch. Instead, they leave deep serrated marks.

It was as if he was cutting through butter. "Surely this can't be normal for werewolves. My claws would have to be stronger than diamond to be able to cut through it in an instant."

He tries it again with the same result. There's no doubt about it. His claws are sharp enough to cut through almost anything. He starts to imagine everything that he could accomplish with these claws. Robbing banks would be too easy.

His skin isn't bulletproof, but it doesn't have to be. Dodging bullets is a new talent for him.

As he is right now, he might be able to take out a small swat team. But he still needs to get stronger. He needs to train his body. Figuring out how to use magic will also be a big help.

....

McCoy stands in his living room, looking over at the evidence board he made. He's already interviewed several family members. They all have alibis.

"This may be a random act of violence. Or were they targeted by an unknown individual for a reason?" Both possibilities are on the table.

He sits down in a chair and goes over some of his notes. 'DNA analysis is still ongoing. However, it's possible that the perpetrator isn't in the database.'

He's secretly hoping that the DNA won't come back as being human. His hunches are usually right, even though this one is out of this world ridiculous. But the evidence shows otherwise. He needs more information.

Bzzzz, bzzzz. He picks up his phone. "We have the test results."

"What did you find?"

"We have a match. Someone named Daren McCallum."

McCoy sighs in relief. 'That didn't take long. At least we'll be able to prevent more deaths.'

"There's something else that you should know. There's additional information in the genome that we've not seen before. I'm sending this to an expert."

"What do you mean?" McCoy is curious. "What kind of information?"

"We don't know what it means yet. I'm sending the samples to a lab. It's not something you need to concern yourself with."