[Insert lawyer voice here] This story contains scenes of graphic sex and violence. No one under the age of 18 or 21 (depending on your local law) should read this story. Any characters depicted in sexual or suggestive scenes are intended to be 18 years or older. While inspired from many sources, the story and characters are original. Any similarities to any real or fictional persons are coincidental. Enjoy.
Once again, a big thanks to ShadwNinjaX for his help!
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A sixteen year old John sat bawling his eyes out in the room of his best friend Terry. John had been brought to his friend's New York apartment by Terry's parents straight from school. It was already late in the evening but John had been sobbing nonstop since midday when he heard the news on what would have been an otherwise sunny, cloudless Tuesday.
"They killed them! They fucking murdered them!" John cried in a mixture of grief and anger.
Terry was doing his very best to comfort his closest friend. "You don't know that. They have search and rescue workers down there, I'm sure they will be dug out of there, as will many more people," Terry said. "Besides, they may not have even been there when this all happened."
"Then why have I not heard from them!" yelled John.
Terry looked through his door and down the hallway toward his parents who were sitting in front of the TV hoping they could give him any comforting news to relay to his grieving friend. His mother simply looked at him somberly and shook her head.
Terry's parents were watching the news, along with the rest of the world, covering the aftermath of the immense destruction that tragically struck lower Manhattan earlier that day. They watched as rescuers combed through twisted rebar, steel and concrete looking for any survivors out of the thousands of people that were there during the incident, including John's entire family.
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The first thing John saw as he woke up was the unlit oil lamp on the bedside table next to him. Through his lazy half opened eyes, he looked around the small shack. The morning sun crept through the slightly open windows and the small cracks between the wood planks in the walls. He could hear the birds outside chirping and the sounds of the villagers beginning their day.
John lay naked under the cool bed sheet wearing nothing other than his dog tags. He was still slightly sore from the ass kicking session he received from Lydia the previous night that soon turned into one of the most intense love making sessions he had ever experienced. John rolled over to wrap his arm around his new lover, but only grabbed the bed sheet. He opened his eyes the rest of the way only to see the spot where Lydia was, now vacant. He frowned in disappointment as he felt the empty spot on the bed. She must have left a while ago since her side of the bed was no longer warm. He looked past the bed to the dresser on the other side of the room. His clothes were no longer scattered on the floor but folded neatly on the dresser, obviously Lydia's doing.
With a loud groan, John finally rolled out of bed and made his way to the dresser. After putting on his clothes, he gathered his rifle, vest and pistol and made his way to the door. John squinted his eyes as the rush of sunlight nearly blinded him until his eyes finally adjusted to the light. He was greeted by the cool morning air that enveloped him. He stepped out to the small porch on the front of the shack. A few lycans passing by stopped and turned to look at John as he stepped out. A few made threatening low growls, but eventually went on about their day. Considering how none of them actually tried to kill him, this was progress.
John grabbed the chair next to the door and placed it in front of the table, the perfect size for a workbench. He set his rifle and vest on the table. Reaching into one of the pouches attached to his vest, he pulled out a small cleaning kit he always carried with him. He popped out the small takedown pin at the rear of the rifle. The front and rear of the rifle separated, pivoting at the front like a hinge. He removed the bolt assembly and began cleaning the parts with a small rag he kept in the kit. John actually enjoyed cleaning his rifle, he found it rather calming. It would give him a renewed sense of faith in his weapon. In his kit was a small spray bottle of lube that he used to spray each part of the bolt assembly before putting it back together. John reassembled his rifle and smiled when he heard the satisfying click when testing it.
John set down his rifle and turned to his vest, he started to go through the attached pouches. John wore a MOLLE vest which allowed him to position each pouch the way that worked best for him. On the lower front of the vest held the magazines for his M4, three pouches each holding two magazines. He removed one of the magazines and inserted it into his rifle. He had two more magazines in his backpack and a few more pistol clips. However he would still need to try and conserve ammo as long as possible. He removed the radio pouch attached to his left shoulder and tossed it away, he certainly would not need it here. He opened up his backpack and pulled out his Ka-Bar knife and attached it to the shoulder strap of the vest where his radio was before. In one of the smaller pouches, John found his favorite paracord bracelet. It was made out of parachute cord colored in an ACU pattern in an intricate crisscross weave. If he needed to, he could unweave the bracelet and the cord would be strong enough to be put to use for any survival need.
"It looks like you are preparing for battle," said a voice next to him. John looked over to see Radulf standing on the porch as he put the bracelet on his right wrist.
John smiled, "You never know. I've been attacked twice since I've been here."
Radulf picked up John's M4 rifle, "I have never seen anything like this before."
He studied the weapon made of a dull, black metal. It felt very light like a feather to him, but only because of his lycan strength. He could imagine that for a human, it would have a bit more weight to it. Radulf believed and had witnessed magic, but he was wise enough to know that this weapon was much more mechanical. He marveled at the complexity of it, the only people in these lands that would remotely be able to grasp it's workings would be the elves far in the East. At the same time, Radulf was slightly terrified. What kind of world did John come from that would require such destructive weapons?
"I'm sure you have a few questions for me," he said, placing John's rifle back on the table. "But this is a conversation best kept out of earshot of others. Let's take a walk."
John started to gather his gear and rifle when Radulf put up his hand.
"You will not need any of that," Radulf said reassuringly. "We will not be going too far."
John set his vest and rifle back down on the table, but kept his pistol and strapped the holster to his leg. There was no way that John was going to leave completely unarmed. Radulf seemed to accept this compromise and turned to lead the way with John following.
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Lydia made her way toward Anya's house to pick up some supplies for their upcoming journey. She would be taking John to see the Lady of the Mountain and it would be a full two days of traveling just to get there. She did not know much about this Lady of the Mountain, only that she was the keeper of an important prophecy. It was obvious to Lydia that her father knew what the prophecy was about but refused to share that information with her.
Three months ago, a woman dressed in a black cloak came to visit Radulf. The woman's face was well concealed but Lydia would never forget those stunning blue eyes she saw. When the woman left, her father started sending Lydia on daily patrols of the outer boarders of their territory. Her father's specific instructions were to keep a lookout for a human warrior not from these lands and bring him in alive. As Lydia reflected on this, she wondered if the mysterious woman was indeed the Lady of the Mountain and if John had a role to play in this prophecy.
Lydia felt a little bad about leaving John in bed early in the morning, but she wanted to get an early start to the day. She smiled as she recalled how peaceful he looked as he slept. It was Anya who suggested that she give in to her feelings and after an incredible night filled with passion, she was glad she did. However, she knew Anya wanted to experience John's love as well. While Lydia was fine with that at the time, she was now reluctant to give up John. The previous night sparked new feelings within her that she had never experienced before. She may have barely known him, but could already tell he had a kind and loving heart. Lydia wanted to remain with John and possibly have him as her mate.
As she turned the corner, Ulfric was standing in her path with a devious smile on his face. Wanting nothing to do with him, she looked to the ground and tried to move on past him. In an almost threatening manner, he moved to block her path.
"I know you slept with the human," Ulfric said with an insidious tone.
Lydia froze; Ulfric had been spying on them. He was cold and calculating, he would not bring this up unless he could use it to his benefit. What was he up to?
"So what if I did?" Lydia said defiantly, "What are you going to do? Tell my father?"
"No," Ulfric laughed, "I had a better idea. Your father is going to name you the new leader when he steps down, against my better judgment."
Lydia had always wondered who her father would name as his successor. Lydia was the logical choice since her family had led this village for generations, but she felt it was a long shot due to her half-lycan status. But this was the first time she had heard it sound like an absolute.
"What you probably don't know is that your father will step down sooner than you think," Ulfric continued. "I also don't think you realize just how much support you have with the village. If you take over as leader, while uneasy, the majority of the village will accept it."
For Lydia, this was a startling but welcome revelation. Despite everything she had done for the village, she had never felt truly accepted. Everything she had ever done was to prove herself to the other lycans. If she could be accepted as a leader, she could truly prove herself and bring acceptance to other half-lycans.
"However..." Ulfric's said as his eyes narrowed and a devilish grin spread across his face. "Should you take that human as your mate, I guarantee that the people will turn against you. Your human lover will be slaughtered in the street and his mutilated corpse put on display. You will be chased out of the village and hunted for the remainder of your life."
A cold fear gripped her heart. She wanted to remain with John and honestly felt that she could be truly happy with him. But her decision to stay with him would not only doom herself, but also result in a gruesome death for her lover as well. If she truly wanted to keep John, she could no longer be with her people and everything that she had worked for would be for nothing. She would be an outcast. Lydia would have to come to a tough decision, John or her people.