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Contact author at: section8militia@yahoo.com "Marked" by J.C. Najera Copyright 2005-2007 It was a cold night in December. The first, if I remember correctly. Atop the roof of a local bar, the Silver bullet, I sat upon the ledge and drew my weapon. The Beretta's cold steel in my grip felt so right... So natural. My mark was just entering the Bullet, wearing a tight red leather outfit and walking with a dignified mien. Odd, especially for a small town in Nevada. 'She must be worth a lot of cash... Only the rich wear such foolish garments,' I thought, cocking the handgun. Turning around, I leapt to the fire escape and clambered down to move around the back. The back door was open; the guards were changing their shift. 'A little too convenient...' I thought, charging through. Inside, I found two guards in the store room, who spun around to greet me. One was clutching a combat knife; both their guns were still holstered. "What are you doing here?" the nearest of the two demanded. Reaching into my coat, I removed two knives and grinned. They both recoiled back, the farthest of the two dropping his shank and severing his own toe. Before he could cry out in pain, however, I threw one of the knives, sticking it through his throat. The other turned toward the door, but didn't get far. He fell to the floor not five feet from where he'd started to run, the second knife sticking straight outward from his spine. Stepping over the two corpses, I grabbed a bottle of Vodka from one of the racks. Uncorking it with my teeth, I sloshed the 80 proof drink over them. "Drink's on me, fellas..." I whispered, removing a throwaway lighter from my pocket. Breaking the restrictor, I lit it and threw it into the pool. They were ablaze in seconds, consumed by a bright blue flame. It was beautiful, but I had no time for aesthetics. Stepping through the door, I entered the 'upper class' section of the bar. It was reserved for those who had 'V.I.P.' status. The only two occupants were the club's owner and my mark. Apparently she was someone he trusted enough not to keep his guards present. A costly mistake. The silenced hiss of my Beretta sounded as a hail of bullets tore into the club owner's torso. Vladimir Khrushchev had been his name; he owed me over five grand. His death was no loss; there was no way he'd ever be able to pay off that kind of debt while he was running this little hole in the wall. "What the fuck?!" she yelped, rounding to face me. Before she could say anything else, I placed the handgun to her temple and my hand over her mouth. "Keep your mouth shut. I don't want to waste any ammo on a worthless bitch like you; especially not when someone's gonna pay me a whole lot more cash if you're brought in alive. Got it?" She nodded, her eyes growing wide in fear. Oh, how I love that look in the eyes of women... So real... So true... Truer than anything this bitch'd ever said to anyone before in her life, anyway. People like her were the ones that lived on the bottom rung of society, crawling their way through the proverbial intestines of the underworld. The kind of people that I lived to hunt; to track them down and kill them was perhaps the most rewarding part of it all. Unfortunately, my employer preferred for her to come back alive. Having run low on supplies, the extra cash that would be payed for her still-pumping heart was all too well needed to bring her back otherwise. I kicked open the nearest door and led her through the main area, my gun's barrel pressed to her back. The door itself nailed a guard standing on the other side, knocking him against the wall. Another guard was standing on the other flank of the door, but he was down in less than a second. Shaking off my fist, I continued to lead the bitch toward the front; his head had been hard as all hell. Explained why he was working in such shit conditions. On our way out of there, many saw the gun to her back, but no one dared try to stop me. The four guards that had been on duty were neutralized, and god knew that the bar tender wasn't going to reach for the sawed-off he had beneath the counter. You may be wondering why this would be. Simple; by this time the smoke alarm was blaring and one of the customers had run to the back and discovered the roasting flesh fest I'd left in storage. We made our way around the side to my old jalopy that was parked in the alley. Opening the rear door, I cracked her in the back of the head with my Beretta and tossed her inside. In the end, this was probably doing her a favor; it'd probably be the last peaceful little nap she'd get for quite some time. Climbing in the driver side, I turned the key and smiled as the Charger's V8 roared to life, its twin headlights piercing through the dark. Every time I heard that sound it called to mind the howl of a wolf calling into the night. Tires squealed on pavement as I pulled away from the Silver Bullet, laughing at the many patrons now dashing outside to escape the embers. * * * As I dragged her limp body up to my apartment, I couldn't help but think that her fate was such a waste of a hot body. My employer would no doubt force her into slavery and whore her out at his underground brothel. A priced-to-fuck lover. Not that I gave a damn. My own lover sat in a glass display case, mounted on the wall just inside my door. Tying her arms and legs together, I tossed her onto the couch and taped her mouth shut. I walked to the South-East corner of the living room, also known as my kitchen, and removed a bottle of Absolut Vodka. This one, however, wasn't for burning. Taking a swig from the bottle, I moved to my lover's case and admired her. Gretchen; an M4-A1 Carbine with threaded barrel, laser-guided Precision Optical sight, American-made one-hundred shot 'C' Magazine, and under-barrel flashlight. 'Don't worry, baby,' I whispered. 'Daddy's gonna feed ya soon enough, just after I rake in the dough from this bitch...' Of course, by 'feed' I meant that I'd load 'er with the 5.56x45mm NATO rounds that she so readily consumed when being fired on full-auto. My cache of those .223 rounds had run dry of late. It was then that a voice from over my shoulder made my blood run cold. 'Good... I was beginning to get hungry...' Rounding on the bitch, I gazed in wonder at the restraints she'd left on the ground by the couch. "How in the fuck did you get out of that?" She let out a long, lustful hiss and threw her head back in a hearty laugh. "Oh, how cute your ignorance is." As she looked forward again, leveling her eyes at mine, I watched in horror as a set of long, sharp fangs slid into view between her lips. She gave me a sickening, visceral grin. My eyes darted back and forth for a split second, finally coming to rest on my Beretta; it was on top of the fridge, across the entire apartment. And, of all the luck, she was right smack in the middle. This dictated one thing; I was fucked. With nothing left to do, I reached into my pocket. Before I could blink, the bitch slammed and pinned me against the wall. My bottle of Absolut crashed to the floor, the sweet scent of alcohol filling the room as it spread across the floor. A snide grin crept across my own lips, and her eyes darted to my right hand to see why. There was my nickel-plated Zippo, shining like sweet Silver in the light that its intense flame produced. Just as it started to drop, she bit hard into my neck. Her left leg darted out so quick I hardly got a chance to see it kick the Zippo away, causing it to close when it struck the wall, falling harmlessly to the floor. Seeing as how my windpipe was currently being gnawed at, I thought what I could not speak: 'Damn.' So there I sat for quite some time, the blood slowly being drained from my veins. It seemed as though an eternity went by before she finally withdrew her fangs, giving me a perplexed look. 'Why are you still conscious?' she inquired, examining my neck wounds curiously as she licked her lips clean of my life blood. It was at that moment she tasted the difference in my blood. She must have been sucking it down so quickly that her tongue hadn't seen so much as a drop of it. Gluttony does have its price... And for her, the price was far higher than that of some fat cholesterol-ridden fuck inhaling waffles at the International House of Pancakes. My eyes flared as they turned a bright gold, my body contorting and taking a new shape. She tried to bolt for the door, but I placed my warping hand upon it to hold it shut. Giving a snarl/laugh, I clotheslined her back onto the couch just as the grey fur began to sprout. How I loved that look of surprise on her face; just like the one she'd given at the club, only far more intense. "I'm gonna enjoy this," I growled, the transformation now complete. Leaping upon her, I seized her arms and forced them down against the wall above the couch. Making use of the claws that sprouted from my hind paws, I tore free her leather outfit with a few short swipes. Her body was indeed beautiful; especially now that it was barren of any raiment to speak of. From her slender hips to her full, luscious breasts I examined her figure. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. Dragging her away from the couch, I tossed her into the bedroom and kicked her onto the mattress that occupied the farthest corner. Knocking over the bookcase so that it blocked the doorway, I gave a deep-throated, wolven laugh. She huddled in the corner on the mattress and simpered, "C-can't we talk about this?" 'Pathetic, and cliché. So much for your bad-ass persona. Just lay still... It'll make this so much easier,' I purred, removing my own clothing. Stalking up to her, I licked my jowls and stared at her pussy. It glistened in the light, her swollen clit practically begging for a good fuck. I was more than happy to oblige it. Once again I leapt upon her, pressing my own hardened cock up to her enlarged vaginal opening. Heat radiated from it, her juices soaking the tip of my maleness. Thrusting forward, I delved into her until finally my canine knot came to rest on her lips. She moaned, arching her back, pressing her hot body against mine. From this point on she did not resist, rather positioning herself so that she lay upon her back. Biting into my neck, she drank while I fucked. Stuffing her with my maleness, I let her adjust to the immense size. After all, werewolf dick isn't exactly compact. Slamming deeper into her, I forced my knot inside her tying her to me. She withdrew her fangs as she gasped in shock, obviously never having taken something so large. Her back arched so far back that her lower lumbar rose six inches from the mattress. Upon leaning forward to sample my vital fluid once again, she whispered in my ear, "Good boy..." Suddenly, she rolled us over so that she was on top, forcing my paws back with a sudden burst of strength that I honestly had not expected. Rather than exacting any form of revenge, however, she slammed down onto my dick and rode me like a horse. Panting as I watched, my tongue lolled out the side of my muzzle. Her breasts bounced just in front of my face as her warm pussy fully enveloped my knot once again, causing my back to arch this time. Slamming upward into her, I discharged my seed forcefully within the confines of that sweet clamp. Panting even harder than before, my body rested against the mattress. Leaning down over me, she kissed my cheek softly and whispered, "You really are a good boy... And a sexy one at that..." At last gathering enough breath to talk, I spoke between pants. "So... How about... telling me... your name?" "Abasidian," she hissed, bending down and kissing me deeply. Her tongue explored my fangs, finally wrapping around my own organ of taste. As she released my paws, I wrapped them around her and drew her in close. When she broke off our kiss, she spoke softly in my canine ear, which twitched toward her mouth to listen. "What is yours...?" "Shadow..." I managed, catching the remainder of my breath once again. She began to kiss down from my neck to my chest, then down my stomach to just above my crotch. "Well, Shadow, is that all the cum that those big balls of yours can hold, or do you have something else for me?" she asked, seductively licking her fangs and staring at my prick. "Why don't you check and see?" I responded, reaching down and lightly stroking the back of her head. Opening her mouth, her long, serpentine-like tongue slid out and wrapped around my cock head. Moaning in pleasure, my eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. She proceeded to give me a blow job that felt better than I could've ever imagined. Bobbing her head up and down, she deep throated it repeatedly. The feeling of sheer ecstasy that ripped through my brain's neural passageways as I exploded within her mouth is beyond any worldly description that I could offer, but needless to say she was choking on one of the largest loads I'd ever blown. After she finished her 'meal,' I picked her up and cradled her in my arms. We exchanged stories of our various adventures throughout our lives, as well as what we'd previously been planning for the future. The two of us had fallen in love that night; not through the sex, but rather a bond spawned from us both being outside of 'the norm.' The kind of understanding that cannot be found with humans. Thus we were inseparable, and would remain so for the rest of our eternal lives.

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