Werewolf Reborn: Book one Fresh Start

Prologue

 The toddler wobbled down a harshly lit hallway. He left scarlet footprints as he limped on the sterile carpet, his knees buckled under his bloated body as he made his way to me. A blank look registered in his sapphire eyes; his tiny hands dragged his victims' blood along the cheap wallpaper as he struggled to support himself.

I wanted to cry but couldn't. My mind refused to process what happened. I didn't know what to do; it was like walking into a red nightmare. I've seen so much blood in my life (too much), yet never in my own home. It felt wrong, perverted. Like all the evil and rage-filled sins of the world were painted on that boy's face.

I walked over to pick up the pitiful creature. The sweet metallic stench of death assaulted my nostrils; it was a scent I knew all too well. He cried and coughed chunks of blood into my arms. He tried muffling his cries by shoving his face into my chest. His nose ran and dripped snot all over the front of my clothes. My eyes followed his crimson trail of carnage down the hall into the once neatly kept living room. A man with a broken spine was smashed into my TV. Glass scattered everywhere like confetti on New Year's.

But the worst thing I saw, the image that still haunts me at night, was Emily's head, ripped away from her body, left to rot on the living room floor. Her once warm blue eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Her mouth hung open like a dead fish. Chunks of her golden hair lay tangled and matted on the cold floor. Her soft pink lips sawed off. My wife was taken, and I only had my weeping son to blame...