Pain.

That’s all I can feel. I’ve been fighting it all night and I can’t hold out much longer.

It’s nearly midnight; too late for this idiocy and I need my sleep. Patches of my skin at my knees and elbows been to tingle. My heart beats so fast I have to gulp in air. It’s like I’m being suffocated. I clench my eyes shut; willing the sensations to stop but they don’t.

I can feel it inside me. Reaching out. Almost begging me to give in.

I can’t go out. It’s not safe – especially for someone like me. They’re out there all the time. Patrolling the edge of the city; though they do not dare enter the forest behind the Wall. It is the one place I will be safe if a make the decision to leave. They are waiting for me to make a mistake and end up in their clutches once again. I’ve survive this long; I don’t want to go back there. My mind couldn’t handle any of it again. The damage that has already be done may never heal properly.

The beast wasn’t out and I have no choice. Even if it puts me in danger of being caught; it’s something I cannot ignore. It’s part of me. It is who I am. What I was made for. As much as I loathe to admit it, I feel more alive when I am one with the monster inside.

It’s not like I want to be like this. I never chose this life. It was given to me and there I nothing I could have done to stop it. I hate myself for letting t control me the way it does but I hate the people who did this to me more. They will pay. I will make them wish they had never even thought of the concept. Whether on my own or with help I will end them.

There’s a pile of clothing tucked underneath my bed; ready for any emergency. I reach over and search the small, rotting table next the bed. Finding it I pull out a match. There’s only a few left. I’ll need to save them or risk my life getting more.

I don’t normally need any light to see by with my excellent eye sight and all – my unique DNA is responsible for that. Only it’s a moonless night. Sometimes not even our heightened senses can overcome certain aspects of Mother Nature.

I strike the match against the side of the box. Nothing happens. I try again, and again, and again. My hands are trembling too much to get a steady grip on the fragile piece of wood and a growl escapes my throat. It startles me. It’s more animal than human – more wolf-like. It reminds me of what I really am. A mutation. A failed science experiment. One that turned out to be the biggest success the Republic has had in years. A mutt. My lack of control is just another sign I need to shift; and quickly.

With I huff I throw the match and box across the room, satisfied a little by the feint thump they make. Who needs light to see by? There is nothing in the room but a bed and side table. The only thing I will being tripping over is my own feet.

Two weeks I have been out here. A fugitive in my own city. They haven’t bothered to search this part of it yet and I couldn’t blame them. With the stench, grime and poverty claiming it; I’m not surprised I haven’t seen any. Not one patrol.

Reaching under the bed I pull out the clothing I keep and slip out from under the ragged blanket. Standing, I take my time to stretch out my cramping muscles. Slipping out of my oversized shirt, I change into the second set of clothing I own. Unfortunately it reeks of them. They are the pieces of clothing I escaped in and haven’t touched them since the second or third day. I cannot remember anymore. It seems like a life-time ago I escaped.

Dark leather pants, white tank, jacket and black boots. Black is their colour and I never thought I could hate a colour so much as I did black.

The leather is soft on my over-sensitive skin.

Taking a few steps to the other side of the room I stare at my reflection in a shattered mirror. The slightest sliver of light seeps in through the window from the street lights below. Its glass is holding – barely. It reminds me of my mind; traumatized and hardly keeping it together.

I could have stolen some less noticeable clothing, maybe grabbed some tattered pants and shirt; a jumper even. Help myself blend in with the homeless maybe. For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It is a stupid reason and can very well get me killed but these clothes remind me of who I was. What I was. The beast I still am.

I flash my teeth in a half smile that looks more like a grimace; staring at my distorted face and knowing this is who I truly am. A broken and damaged monster.

I turn away, barely able to look at my reflection any longer. I know I don’t look like that but after everything I have done; I should. Everyone should see the monster; the evil inside me. They may stay away then and I will stop getting the killed. Taking a soothing breath I walk to the door and run my fingers along its frame.

I was lucky enough to find a padlock with its key in the trash and use it to lock my door. It won’t do much to stop them from breaking in but it will give me enough time to escape; if I’m lucky. It has also worked quite well against the sinister human types too – not that they would have been much of a problem. Just more of a nuisance than anything.

I fumble with the lock for a moment, the trembling in my hands returning. I am starting to get frustrated and know it’s only making my situation worse. I can’t help it. I haven’t been able to bring my emotions under control lately. It has been getting harder and harder, and I am afraid of losing what little sanity I have left.

After a few tries the lock finally click open and I push the door slowly; ever cautious. I take a deep gulp of air; checking for any fresh scents. No one’s come or gone in hours. Stepping into the hall, I head towards the emergency stairwell. I can’t use the elevator. The power to this building – and those around it – had been cut at least twenty-one years ago. Before I was born.

The stairwell smells of sweat, urine and vomit. Just the usual smells of the Slums. The stench it’s me like a brick wall and I stumble backwards into the hall. Taking a few shallow breaths, I brave the stairwell again. I rush down to the first floor. I cannot get out of there quick enough.

The lobby of the building is dark and eerie. Having no electricity or staff to keep the place open and running has deteriorated it. The carpet is patchy and covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt. There are even some questionable dark stains here-and-there. The air – no matter how many windows are broken – is stale and leaves a foul taste in the mouth. Every footstep disrupts the grime and leaves a trail. The only evidence the old hotel isn’t completely abandoned.

I’ve only ever seen three different people taking residence here; and none of them spoke of even glanced my way. Just how I like it these days. I’m glad they have kept their distance. I would hate to have to deal with them for coming in contact with me. No one can discover who I am. I am a fool for thinking this can work for much longer. Everyone knows you can’t outrun your past forever. One day it will catch up to me. I just need to stay ahead of it long enough to make a difference – however small it may be.

I hurry to the doors and push them open, warily stepping into the cold street. There’s no such thing as being too careful when you are a fugitive. A high level one at that. I’ve undoubtedly made it to the top of the priority list; no good thing.

All is quiet. The light from the dim lamp-posts – which are the only things to have power the Slums – cast their eerie glow in the darkness. Most citizens are comfortable asleep by this our; even those still making a live in this part of the city. I shouldn’t have to worry about running into any of them. I do need to be careful however; if they catch me I fear it will be my end.

I glance around, looking for a quiet place the shift. As I walk I monitor the sensations in my legs, tracing its passage to my arms and the back of my neck. It is going to happen soon. There is nothing I can do to stop it. They’re going to force me to change and when I do – my tracker will reboot – giving them my location.

I’ve been able to fight them off for two weeks by not shifting but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever. Now the only option I have left is to run. Run as far as I can before the send a team out to get me. I don’t even have the time to wipe all the evidence of my being here.

When my scalp begins to tingle, I know I have gone as far as I can, so I search for an alley or any place private enough to go through the sift without prying eyes. The first one I find is occupied with a few men cuddled together under a makeshift shelter. The next is empty. I hurry to its end and undress quickly; hiding behind a barrier of bins. Stuffing my clothes behind one I begin the change.

My skin expands; stretching. The sensations deepen and I try my hardest to block out the pain – or rather – the agony. I gasp as my leg muscles know and convulse. Panting, I strain to relax. A drop of sweat runs down my cheek, tickling the sensitive skin and I grit my teeth together. I cannot move my hands to wipe it away. Finally my muscles relent and untwist. It’s over.

I stretch and blink. When I look around the world has mutated to an array of colours; blacks and browns and greys. With the change, my already keen senses sharpen. I pick up scents of asphalt, decay, day-old sweat and about a million other things. The smells are so overwhelming I struggle to take a breath. It reminds me of that damned stairwell.

Turning around I catch a glimpse of myself in a puddle and glance down. My unusual eyes glow back at me – one a blue so pale it is almost white and the other red – luminous under the light of the moon. They are the only indication of what i really am; of the monster that slumber inside. I lift my lips, flashing my teeth before I turn.

Heading back down the alley; my nails click on the concrete and I wince at the sound. To me it is the loudest noise but to the ears of anyone else it would be feint – almost silent. I stop as I come to the alley’s end. Lifting my muzzle I inhale deeply; searching for their scent. I can’t find anything fresh. A good sign.

I pad quietly down the street, stopping only the smell the air again ever few hundred feet. I know I will be able to hear someone first but I am on edge. I’ve escaped, survived for two weeks and now the chase has begun again. For how much longer, I cannot say. One thing I am sure of, however, is it will end tonight. Either with a dead squad of Republic agents or me in a body bag.

After I few minutes I quicken to trot. I do not like this. It is too quiet out here. I should have come across at least one other soul by now – excusing the homeless men from before. I feel too exposed – too much of an easy target. I need to find better cover – not that it will help much with the live tracker in my shoulder – but it may just give me the edge I need when they do come.

Making my way down a few more streets without trouble I can see the distant tops of trees ahead. I haven’t dared the forest before now. There is no way I could have made it past the Wall surrounding the city and the guards manning it. It was safer to just hide in plain sight. I am desperate now and will risk my life to escape.

I can feel it calling me; the forest. Pulling me to it – like an old instinct I cannot explain. I know it is where I belong now. Not here in this dank, crumbling city but out there amongst the trees; wild and free from their grip.

I’m getting closer now. Almost there. I’m no more than a few hundred yards from the Wall, when I hear the footfall of a boot behind me.

It is the loudest sound in the world. The one sound I did not want to hear. It means they’ve found me – a whole of a lot quicker than I expected. They must have a squad on constant standby to have gotten to me ask quick as they have.

I don’t risk a glance behind me. It will only slow me down and give them the chance to take me. Instead, I force my legs to move faster – my muscles to work harder – breaking into a sprint. The freezing wind buffets my face, turning my nose ice-cold. My coat is too thick for the wind to penetrate and for that I am grateful. I don’t like the cold.

As I get closer to my safe haven I hear his footsteps behind me getting faster. They don’t drop back or get closer; they stay the same distance – the same pace. I know he isn’t running at full speed either; his heartbeat hasn’t yet reached its peak. I begin to panic.

I haven’t been in my wolf form for weeks. They would have found me sooner otherwise. The wolf has been part of my life ever since I can remember and by shutting it out like I have – it has felt like I’ve lost part of myself.

I can almost taste my freedom. My need to escape filling me completely. I skid to an abrupt halt when a man steps out in front of me; blocking my path. I get a quick glance at him before bolting to the left and speeding across the street. He is wearing the usual grab they all wear. A thick long-sleeved shirt, black pants and gloves with a Kevlar breastplate to stop any bullets coming their way; or in my case a nasty bite. He is also fitted with most of the latest software. Night vision and thermal, and a rifle; which I really do not want pointed my way.

I high tail it out of there but my body is still recovering from the shift and they are more than aware of my weakened state. It usually shouldn’t take this long to recover but I’ve not change in a while and now I am starting to pay for that. I am guessing the man behind me is this new ones partner – and where there are two, there are usually more. I need to lose them quickly before they radio in my position to the HQ and send more agents out.

“We’ve located Alpha.” Too late. I hear his voice behind me speaking into his mic. “Requesting backup.”

I do not hear the reply but I can guess what it will be. I have worked with enough of them in the past to know how they work inside and out.

I hear the faintest of clicks and know the first man has disabled the safety button on his weapon and know exactly what the next few moments will ensue. He lets out a small spray of bullets. I dodge most of them but one scrapes past my forehead; catching skin and drawing blood. The thick hot liquid drips into my eye with ever step I take. I shake my head, trying to clear my vision but inly succeed in making it worse. I am running half blind now. Great.

Before they can fire again I race around a corner and lengthen my strides. Leaping into a small alley on my right I squeeze through. It only has enough room for one human to push through at a time. If they both follow me in they will have to do it single file; giving me enough time to dispatch the both of them.

It will work to my advantage in that perspective but if they are smarter than I am hoping – which is extremely probable – they’ll use their weapons on me before I can even get close enough to harm them. They alley is too small to manoeuvre around and dodge bullets. They’ll hit me for sure.

Diving behind a fallen trash can; I hold my breath and strain my ears. Crouching low to the ground my belly scrapes the rough concrete. The one advantage – other ta the night vision goggles they have – is my fur is a ghostly white. I stand out extremely well. Even if they didn’t have the night vision or thermal they would be able to spot me a mile away. Why does my coat have to be white? Black would come in handy right now; even grey or brown would be better than what I am stuck with.

I duck my head so it’s resting on my paws and pray they ignore the tracker and continue down the street. I listen carefully to their footfalls – closer now. There are more of them; at least four and they reach my alleyway. I close my eyes wishing my life was so much simpler. Easier. It’s not and in a very selfish way, I wish it wasn’t. I’m starting to envy the homeless and middle class citizens. At least they don’t have to live my life. Especially mine – hunted; for the rest of my life. If I make it out of here alive.

I let myself give in to the false hope that they may not even be after me but someone they mistook me for. I’m not sure how but it is possible and I’m willing to believe in anything right now.

I tense; getting ready to run again.

The monster that sleeps inside me is waking up. Adrenaline runs through my veins and gives it new life and it wants to attack – to kill them all. I fight a mental battle. My human side struggling with all its strength. Only I can feel the beast – the monster – winning.

The two agents in the front keep walking and I almost leap with joy. It is only to be crushed violently while the other two stop, looking down the deserted lane, searching for any sign of me.

My body has made up my mind for me. I need to split them up if I have any hop of taking them down without getting injured again or worse – killed.

Slowly but surely the last two men begin to move closer; entering my hideaway. Their carefully placed boots hardly make a sound, and if I couldn’t smell them I wouldn’t have thought them to be there. They have mastered the art of near silence so well, even my excellent ears have trouble picking them up. It’s now I realise they are not just any agents. They are Guardians. Suddenly any hope of escaping vanishes and leaves without a trace. As if it was never there to begin with. They are the elite soldiers of Fear – the Special Forces unit.

My tail sages and ears droop a little. There’s no way I’m getting out of here alive. They’ve used my wits against me and now I’m trapped. There is nowhere to go but backward. It’s my only chance of survival – even the monster can agree with me there.

I shuffle quietly, shifting my weight around to my forelegs – getting ready to push myself backward and scoot out the other end of this cramped tunnel of death.

They are only feet away from my hiding spot and I can smell a faint trace of fear wafting from them. It’s almost ironic; considering they are agents of the Fear – the Republics Black Ops group. It’s unusual. I’ve worked with Guardians before and that’s the one scent I’ve never caught from them. What could have them frightened – even the tiniest – that they fear me?

Unless their orders aren’t to kill but to capture. Suddenly it all clicks into place and I would rather die than go back there.

After two weeks I’ve had all this time to wonder why there have been no patrols in this area. If they’d wanted to kill me I would have been dead days ago. It is only now that I notice the guns they hold. These rifles have been altered to shoot darts – tranquillisers – not lead bullets. This is a lot worse than I thought. Death I can handle – would wish for. At least it would end the pain and kill the monster.

Capture. It is something I haven’t considered. I don’t even know how to react to the notion. All I know is I need to escape or die trying.

Slowly I inch back with every heartbeat. My hip and shoulder press up against the wall to my right and I try to look as small as possible. The bins will only allow me to put a small gap between the agents before I will come into view. I need to be ready to bolt when that happens.

I pause, my own fear holding me in place when the first man holds up his fist; sending the signal to halt to the agent behind him. I swallow nervously. Has he seen me? I can’t be sure but I don’t want to wait around to find out. Only my muscles are frozen.

The first man kneels; allowing the one behind to cover him while he lowers his weapon. Lifting a hand, he clicks something on the side of his goggles and a little red light shoots outward. It’s then I know I need to move. He’s turned on the thermal. No amount of bins or metal can save me now.

The next few seconds seem to move in slow motion. My mind and the wolf tell me to run but the monster wants to fight; to taste blood. Kill.

Without warning a growl escapes my throat and I leap from my hiding spot as their weapons raise to aim at my position. Launching myself at the first man – who is still crouched and my jaws easily find his throat; closing around it. I leave him no time to react. My element of surprise working wonderfully. I fall forward and get a glimpse of his partner being knocked back by my momentum. He scrambles to his feet and speaks into his radio calling for backup.

I shake my head in a last effort to kill the human in my grip; teeth ripping and tearing his throat. I sever everything to the bone. He won’t be back to hunt me but his death will forever haunt my dreams. I can taste warm blood gushing into my mouth. Iron and salt. It’s not the fact that I’ve just killed someone that scares me. It’s the fact that I like it. I feel his pulse give one last struggle and stop. I lift my head; glaring into the eyes of the second agent. Blood drips from my muzzle running thick and warm. I run my tongue along my muzzle; clearing it of the crimson liquid.

He second man lifts his weapon. He’s still backing up and with each backward step he takes I take one forward, keeping the same distance between us. I am surprised he hasn’t yet taken a shot. This puzzles me. I have just killed his partner and he is standing in front of me, seemingly frozen.

What’s he waiting for? The thought runs through my mind and I have the sudden urge to tear his throat out too. This time the monster wants to flee. It has gotten its wish for blood and wants freedom now. I couldn’t be more delighted.

I quickly become impatient and take a glance behind me – checking out my escape. My heart sinks when I see backup has arrived. My only option now is to stand and continue to fight. My muscles bunch like a spring – getting ready to leap at the second man before he can come to his senses and take the shot. His pause will get him killed just like his partner.

I watch his finger brush the trigger and it is all the warning I need. Springing to the side, my claws dig into the wall beside me and I use it to leap at the man’s head. If I am not careful with my strength I could misjudge the leap and end up flying over him. Luckily my front paws connect with his face. He is thrown back by my momentum and I land on top of him; fangs easily finding the gap between his neck guard and chin.

I quickly dispatch of the second man when I hear the scrape of metal against concrete. I flick my large head around, glancing over my shoulder and I see the first two men. Lifting my bloodied lips back a snarl vibrates through me. My fur stands on end and puffs up, making me look bigger than I actually am. They don’t seem deterred by my efforts. That’s the wonderful thing about the Guardians. They will get the job done first and then stop to mourn their dead after. Though some don’t even do that. With them, the mission comes first. It’s what makes them such deadly soldier.

So am I.

I would turn and lunge at them but I have had my fill of killing tonight. I turn back and make my escape the same way I entered this alleyway. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by the figure that greeted me out on the street. They are determined to finish their mission precisely how they’ve been told to.

I take one look at the agent blocking my path and a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time courses through me. This is the one agent I don’t not want to challenge. I am no coward but I know when I have been defeated. Not only is he a Guardian but he is a Reaper too. Just like me he has a beast slumbering inside him – only not in wolf form. No. He isn’t exactly like me but he is the closest a human can get to the monster I keep. He will not falter in his mission and will fight to the death to take me in. He fears nothing and no one, not even his commanders. These are the agents that are so rare to come across but are by far the most deadly.

So when he appears before me I know it is the end of the line. I turn tail and head back toward the two Guardian agents at the other end of the alley. I would rather place my survival in taking them down and not the Reaper behind me.

In my haste I forget about the bodies I have left and don’t see the pools of blood still forming on the ground. My paws land and I slip, my shoulder crashing into the concrete. Taking their only opportunity the Guardians rush toward me and I feel one pair of hands grip my shoulders and head. The other string pair holds my back end down.

I wither on the ground trying to free myself and buck them off as the rough concrete scratches my face. Managing to lift my head inly inches, I snap my jaws as the Reaper reaches forward with a syringe. My teeth snap shut only millimetres from his fingertips and he jerks back. He reaches for his rifle and with the butt cracks it against my head. My vision blurs and immediately I feel the pinch of the needle in the soft skin of my neck.

Giving one last effort I jerk up, pushing and kicking with my legs, and snapping with my jaws in one last, vicious attempt to get free. The men leap back – even the Reaper moving out of my way – letting me get to my feet. They know they have won and all the need to do is wait for the injection to take effect.

Whatever he pumped into me is already taking effect. I bolt from the alley; the place that I thought would keep me safe but only ended up being my demise. My legs go numb and I stumble onto asphalt. Thank the Mother there are no vehicles in this part of town.

I collapse two streets over and my body turns to ice. I begin shivering uncontrollably. My already blurry vision starts to darken and black spots appear before my eyes. It takes only minutes for the Fear agents to surround me once again and the one who injected me removes his goggles. I see the triumph shinning from his eyes as both Guardians kneel down to restrain me. I’ll never forget those eyes. Hard and cold. Showing no sympathy in my misery. He should hope I never lay eyes on him again.