A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Lycans are made | March 12, 2012

The first lycan I ever came across was a female Alpha that hunted me down when I was fourteen years old.

I did nothing to provoke this encounter. Other than prove an opportunity too good to pass up for her and her pack. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Prior to her attack on me , lycans to me were just some bogey-man I’d heard about, like a scare tactic designed to keep werewolves in line. To show young werewolves what we didn’t want to become. Ever.

To demonstrate to impressionable werewolves what was so beneath the very nature and biology of the werewolf. And to illustrate to pups like me and my four siblings how good and great werewolves, Breukelen werewolves in particular, truly are.

I never doubted myself as a werewolf until that encounter. Everything I had ever been told about lycans up until then was proven completely true by that attack. I never have had any reason to doubt my pack. Or my pack leader or the werewolf way of life. But it turns out not all wolves are created equal.

Lycans aren’t a concept. They’re humans who have become wolves. Not true werewolves as such. They’re not born a werewolf. Werewolves are born .

We carry a genetic legacy that is eons old and passed down through our bloodlines.

Lycans are made not born. They do not have a genetic advantage of the human race like us. They do not possess a werewolf gene. They’re a problem created by werewolves.

They’re kind of like a basterdized offspring of a werewolf. The problem with this is that werewolves don’t care about lycans. Well, we’re not supposed to care about lycans. Even though werewolves are at fault here.

Of course being a werewolf myself, a true werewolf, I’m not supposed to say such blasphemous things out loud. Or you know like ever. The general rule for lycans is they just can’t be us. Therefore they can’t be a part of us. Can’t be a part of our packs or our way of life or our culture.

They’re beneath us. They’re nothing.

So you see the problem?

Werewolf attacks and bites a human. Human manages to survive the werewolf attack. Human becomes infected by werewolf’s bite. Werewolf creates something it doesn’t want, a lycan .

Lycan has nowhere to go because lycan lacks identity. Because it is the werewolf way is to deny the lycan such a thing. Strip it of what it would otherwise be entitled to if it were a werewolf, or even a human.

Therefore the repercussions of lycanthropy are put into their otherwise, unprepared for it, body’s system. Human gets past stage one, infection. Survives to live and tell whoever will listen and believe them, that they were attacked by a werewolf.

Human gets ridiculed and become ostracised from everyone and everything around it as a result of this one event affecting them, that they can’t let go of. A month later human goes through first shape shift. Human somehow manages to survive the shape shift. Human is no longer a human, but a lycan.

This new lycan does not understand what has happened to them or how it works. Has no information to go off. Has no support network. The werewolves they find out about, turn them out. All but run them out of werewolf territory.

Any time the lycan runs into werewolves, they fight, and are met with hostile intentions for no actual reason, other than they carry the scent of a lycan. Lycan is made to go it alone. Because lycan is not a werewolf by nature, intention, or biology.

When I was just a pup, I lived rather naively amongst my pack. I was just part of a collective community that looked after me. I was just a pup from the leading pack alpha’s family.

My father is the alpha leader of the Breukelen werewolf pack in Brooklyn, New York. I adore and admire my father. I thought he could do no wrong. I thought he was amazing.

He loved me, loved his pack and he was rather brilliant at leading our pack, through business decisions as well as strategic decisions and understanding the personalities of our pack. Not that I would figure that out until I was older and began to glimpse the inner working of our pack at play.

I didn’t know there were politics to work through because I never saw that side of our world. As a pup, I didn’t need to be.

But after my first run in with a lycan I changed . I guess you could say I grew up. Not that long after the lycan attack on me I met Booker Parish. I was fifteen and Booker was seventeen.

My world was about to be tilted on it’s well structured and known axis. All because of a boy. But not just any boy. Benico Parish, Ben for short, Booker to his friends.

Booker was the first lycan I met who didn’t want to kill me.

Didn’t want to harm me.

Booker Parish is to this day the only lycan this werewolf has ever been in love with.


To Read more from Perception, go to: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/133976


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