Werewolf Biker

Chapter One: Weylin Hemming

"My name is David Michael Stevens, but I don't go by that name anymore. At the present time, I'm Weylin Hemming, new member of an Outlaw motorcycle club called "Kings of Chaos." I am a club Prospect, meaning I am allowed to ride with the club, but I don't wear the colors. After a while, the club votes on whether or not to allow me to become a full member but, I won't be around that long.

Neither will they.

It was May 2006, seven days before the full moon. The blood-lust was becoming stronger each day as the full moon approached. It was nearing midnight, I was in Torrance California in a low
income neighborhood just wandering. Suddenly the smell of fear, and terror filled my nostrils. Female, close by. I heard a muffled scream, then some male voices cursing and laughing. I ran quickly to the source of the sound and smells to a rundown track house on a mostly deserted street. As I peered into a small window at the back of the house, I saw six men crowded into a bedroom. The house was obviously abandoned, a couple of chairs, and an old mattress. They were standing around a young girl about sixteen, or seventeen. She had been beaten by at least some of the men, and was sobbing on the bed. Suddenly one of the men, obviously the leader of this pack, pushed his way through the group, and grabbed the girl. She begged him to let her go, and he just laughed at her and ripped off her clothes. Then as I watched, he raped her. Then the others each did the same. After they were through, the leader said something to one of the others, who then reached over and cut the throat of the now unconscious girl. My eyes widened as the sweet spray of blood filled the air. I sighed and licked my lips, as the blood lust pounded my temples. I watched this graphic brutality, fascinated with the vicious nature of these men. I knew now who my prey would be. These men were like me, animals, brutal and cruel. Only they were that way by choice. I was denied that option.

I followed the men in the darkness as they quickly left the house, and made their way down the street. After three or four blocks, they got onto some motorcycles, and rode away. I hadn't heard their names, I didn't need to. I knew each one intimately from their scent. I knew the hunt would be a good one."

"The wolf is not evil, he just does what he was born to do, kill. And he does it better than any other predator on earth, except for man. Could you imagine the carnage if the two were entwined?"
(Raymond Dawson, explorer, adventurer. 1886-1942)