I'm an assassin. A killer-for-hire. I'm the guy you call to remove a certain pesky thorn without complications or evidence that could link you in anyway. I'm that good. If you have the money, I have the skills, but I don't give a damn about your life. And do you want to know a secret. I am a werewolf. Yeah, I know you're cracking up right now. I can just hear your little snide remarks, "Are you the big-bad-wolf?" or "where's little red riding hood?" You think I'm playing…well I'm not.
I don't have unwanted body hair, bar handle mustaches, or missing teeth. I don't even have a single scar on this body. In fact I look completely normal and some people even find me attractive. I could be a doctor, lawyer, technician, even your dentist. And you wouldn't even know. That's basically the point.
I'm not allergic to silver bullets nor do I have a problem with the full moon deal. Those are just misguided facts to make you feel better when things go bump in the night. (I just love the way those movie directors stretch facts.) But I will tell you one thing those incompetent people got right. I hate those blood sucking leeches. And when I say leeches, I meant vampires for those of you who haven't connected the dots yet.
They stole something very important to me. My only family member. She was barely six years old before they killed her. My baby sister Misa. And you better believe I want revenge. Despite what some people think, it's not as though they have an advantage. That whole 'undead' thing and 'immortality' crap has nothing to do with me. For some reason, when I hit my twenty-first birthday, I stopped aging.
I didn't realize I was a werewolf until the 10th anniversary of Misa's death. I guess I should start at the beginning of my new life. Let me just warn you now that I have no patience for things like 'chapter 1' or 'chapter 2' so I will just name the titles instead. I will also interrupt every now and then. Bear with me on this and you won't regret it
