Full Moon Rising
Author's Note: I've got a few stories going so if ya like this one it may be a while because I have to write them in turns. If you've read When We Backslide . This is somewhat like it, but the problems on Roy boy this time. Yes, this is for all those who like wolves and Roy. This first chapter is short because I'd like to know if you want me to continue. Don't want to commit to somethin' bad ya know.
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'.
Chapter I: Garou
Mustang fled as fast as his legs would allow him. He turned the corner of a flower shop and continued down the alleyway. It was nearly fifty degrees outside, yet sheets of sweat were rolling down his neck and back. A cramp throbbed under his rib cage and his lungs threatened to burst, but he forced himself on. The sudden howl of hound dogs gave him another rush of adrenaline. Veins and arteries expanded, the liver produced an enormous amount of sugar and the blood cells carried oxygen to the most vital organs.
Mustang wiped his mouth. He didn't know why he did it and this was the third night in a row. He felt an insatiable craving for the most bizarre things. The Colonel was falling apart at the seams, but for some reason he liked it.
Slipping on a piece of trash Mustang went face first onto the ground. He could feel the bounding paws of the angry dogs on his trail followed by a gang of police. He rolled over to his back and stared up a the still night. His raven hair clung to his face. Puffs of exhausted breath floated up into the air. Mustang knew a dead end lay behind him and that soon he would be discovered. The life of his career was on the edge of a knife. As he began to realize this he climbed to his feet and prepared an excuse for the nearing police.
I was chasing the creature that killed the cows and was taken off it's trial when-
Suddenly the pack of frenzied hound dogs clipped around the corner and darted for him.
Na. I don't think they'd buy that… Mustang glanced up at the evening sky as if for assistance. And he got it.
A dense cluster of stratocumuli had uncovered the silver eye of the night. The Wolf's Moon. Within a blink, Mustang was on his knees howling in agony. The hounds stopped in place, they sensed something… strange in the air. The police had finally caught up to the action and stood behind the dogs, pointing their flashlights in the direction of the scream.
Mustang felt as if his bones had turned to thousands of tiny daggers that dug into his tissue. There was a terrible sensation that traveled the length of his spine. The worst case of goosebumps covered his entire body as thick hair sprouted from them. Mustang grabbed his face, his mouth and nose grew into a long fanged snout. His pointed furred ears climbed higher on his head. A sharp pain ran up his legs as two black paws burst through his boots. Even his military attire became tight and suffocating. Mustang tore off his jacket and white undershirt. His pants seemed to fit alright except that they were far too short and he ripped a hole for his long fluffy tail. When the transformation was completed all was silent for a few minutes.
Mustang flinched as his hearing connected with his brain. His powerful olfactory system allowed him to locate everyone around him by smell alone. He flexed a leg and took a step forward. A deep growl broke into the silence. Mustang was brought back to reality. He glanced down the alley and saw four dogs baring their teeth and snapping there jaws. Behind them stood three police. They were shaking in their drawers.
"P-put yer' hands on yer' head!" one was brave enough to squeak. "Do it or we'll sick'em on ya!"
Mustang licked his chops and smiled. He couldn't control the raging beast he'd set free, but with great effort he at least compromised with it. So he slowly bent down to grab his clothing. The moonlight shimmered off of his silky obsidian fur and with a flash of green eyes he disappeared.
:Yes/No?