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Woot, I have actually been working on it! It's starting to drive me in circles, though. @___@ Here is part two!

Faolan

The girl followed me down the hallway quietly, silently, the only sounds being made was her breathing and clumsy footsteps. I was silent, like my habit tended to make me.
Thump thump thump.
This was the first time my job required that I turn a human into a wolf unwillingly. Usually I was given foolish mortals who longed for blood and flesh and power and all the other stuff human nature compelled them to have. It was easy then, injecting them with the serum as the yelled at me for more. I could skip out of this, but then Thalassa would punish me. Badly.
Thump thump thump.
But now I had to put this stuff into a screaming, struggling, honey-haired girl who was hoping for her sister to come and save her. Oh, how I wished she wasn’t hoping that her sister was going to save her. I didn’t want her as disappointed as I’m sure she would be.
Thump thump thump.
I came to a halt very abruptly in front of a closed, windowless door, the girl bumping into me from the suddenness of my lack of movement. I heard her scramble back and avoid my touch almost like it was a poison. It probably was, in some mental way. Gripping the cold handle I opened the door, and then stepped behind her, pushing her into the room.
Thump thump thump.

Kiki

This room was even worse then the last. It was white, pure white, with cabinets hanging about that blended into the walls like metal chameleons. In the middle of the room, though, was a large chair that resembled my escort in so many ways. It was made out of a dark brown wood and black metal, straps decorating it, waiting to bind my soul. MY soul. My SOUL. I shuddered and stepped back, just to feel his warm body against mine once again. I was going to move to avoid him when I felt him turn me around and push me a little harder into the chair then he did when he shoved me into the room. I fell with a thunk and soon he was working on strapping me in. “Why, why, why…”

Faolan

The girl didn’t like the chair. Once I leaned down to strap her in, I felt a weak fist smash into my face. I leaned back, a little dazed, and heard her sprint out of the clunky piece of confinement and too the door. With a quick motion of my hand I grabbed her by her shirt and hauled her back, throwing her roughly back into the instrument of confinement. I worked quickly this time and strapped her in without hesitation, just wanting to get the screaming woman into restraint.
Once she was set, I fell to my knees and screamed as well, cried with her, my hands on the side of my head. It was like the chores of the dead, the deathly sick screams of two condemned creatures.
I stopped soon after, just to be greeted with an unnatural silence from the both of us. I shuddered as I shifted, just to hear her small voice waver out of her throat.
“Why why why…”
I looked up at her with dark eyes and paused. Silence. “Why what?”
“Why everything.”
Pause. More silence. I sighed and rocked back onto the floor so I was sitting a bit back from her, looking at her poor, fragile body in the chair. Should I tell her, and just give her more time to suffer, or ignore it and just inject the stuff into her? I mused it over for a second, and then her pain flowed into me and I decided that she had a right to know the real truth. She was going to be one of us, anyway, she someone would have to tell her eventually anyway. “That’s all ancient history…” I sighed, closing my eyes as I prepared myself.

The Beginning of Two and All

Since the beginning of time, humans have always been curious little things that liked the foil God’s plans and make their own. They developed agriculture, clones, weather machines, anything they could to thwart nature and make it their own. Soon enough, humans wanted to become perfect themselves. Take traits from animals and combine them with human intelligence, so they could have the speed of animals, the instincts of them, and the extra fluff that humans had grown out of in their comfort. So, far and wide the brains of the world started to try and construct a chemical that would allow this. The only problem was that it was voted unethical to try these serums out on human test subjects, and that was exactly what they needed to do. Distraught, the brains began to falter and the tests began to lessen. That is until Jiva Orrator came up with, what she called,’ the perfect cure to the disease called humanity’. Breaking the laws and acquiring herself a convict destined for death, she had him strapped to a table and injected with the brown liquid. Nothing happened as she and a few bystanders watched from afar, behind what they thought was a safe barrier of metal and glass. But after a bit, the subject began to show symptoms. It went from rapid breathing, to screaming, to elongated teeth and fur growth and bone manipulation and body transformation, until before them stood the first Wolf ever made. Delighted, they watched the confused creature pace his stall, the straps having been snapped by his strength. Bullets wrung out and screams followed as the enraged and confused monster broke through the window in a furry-induced blindness. He fell down dead, a mound of bleeding fur and flesh, but the bullet was not fast enough, for at the end of his claws was the Jiva’s blood, her dead body not to far away. Shocked at the happenings, the bodies were burned and the chemical was permanently disposed of.
But humans were never known for letting something drop once they have had a breakthrough. Around 2100, an innocent bystander dug up a jar in an airtight container, which was buried on some land that he had recently purchased. Confused as to what the brown liquid was, he brought it to a University, were it was, with great excitement, made evident that it was the serum used so long ago. Scientists jumped on it as they started to manipulate it and perfect it. This time, after years of testing, the brown liquid was changed into what was once again called the ‘perfect cure’. Instead of testing it on a convict, though, they took a random druggie off of the side of the street. Her name was Thalassa Rickar, and she was strapped down in a chair that was once used for electrocuting people. Instead of having the chemical injected into her arm, like usual, it was put directly into her heart. The results were disastrous. The test subject turned quickly and escaped, followed by a small army of beasts similar to her. Unknown to the workers, she had injected her own home-made drug into her just before she was taken away, as well as a plethora of other drugs, illegal and legal. The mixture of unknown substances had changed the original brown liquid, giving her control over her beast form, and the ability to change a human into a mindless creature like her with a bite or a scratch. Discovering her knew-found powers, the woman began to take over cities, killing innocent humans or adding them to her ranks. Fortunately for the mortals, with power comes weaknesses, and they began to build resistance cities, and hunters were born with new technology. The Wolves began to die away and they became nothing more then a nuisance, no more common then rape and murder. No one knows what became of Thalassa, either. Experts say there is no way she could still be alive after all those years. Others say you can never know when it comes to Wolves. Today she is presumed dead.

Faolan

Growling and snarling encompassed me as I sat in a corner, surrounded by a semicircle of trashcans as my measly protection. A scream rang down the alley way as I huddled closer to myself, my knees tight against my chest. A whimper escaped my throat as the padding of feet slowly came down the small, dark corridor to my makeshift fort, my lonely abode of trash and metal and old brick.
I had not had a hard life as it may sound at the moment, oh no. My mother did not die in child birth, my dad was not a drunkard and did not beat me, and we were not dirt poor. We were actually very wealthy and lived in a nice home, me the only son living with a rich merchant and beautiful house wife. My life had been intoxicatingly perfect, going to school and being oblivious to all that happened around me and the real treacherous of the world, staying in my large court-yard and mansion-like house.
The padding got closer, and I closed my eyes and buried my head in my knees, willing myself to be silent. If I couldn’t see them, then perhaps they couldn’t see me? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
We lived well, hearty, and full, the first 13 years of my life being splendorous and much more fulfilling then most kids could account for.
Blood, blood everywhere, gnashing, clawing. My mothers screams, the wicked laughter of my enemies as they jeered me on to run, run, RUN like the little ******** I was. A large, tan wolf tripped me easily and bit my arm when I was leaving the land I had so loved, promised that when I was all grown up that he would come back and show me the pain he had gone through all his life. I left, crying, the deep booming laughter of that tan-
Snuffling, hunting, blood-lust. Don’t come, don’t come.
I lived on the streets for the next ten years of my life, trying to get by on what little I had, but facing the harsh realities of what everyday people really had to go through.
I was by no means a coward, but when a starving man is attacked on the streets by a pack of Wolves, the best he can do is go and hide and hope that his life is passed by. But no, here was a Wolf, looking for raw meat or blood or whatever the hell they ate!
“Here you are, all grown up, you little snot!” a voice snarled, gruff like sandpaper on my ears. I looked up from my knees, just to see a scruffy tan-
“Come on, kid, you’re coming with me. Remember that promise? Time to full-fill-“
A needle was injected into my weak body and right there in that same alley-way in that now dead town I was turned into one of them. The brown liquid, the disgusting feeling of new life in you, of terror and deceit and-
His name was Terrel, a scruff of a man and a mutt of a Wolf. Once I had got over the initial symptoms of taking an unknown chemical while starved and just a little drunk and pumped up on a plethora of drugs, he brought me back to the coven. There I struggled to fit in, ridiculed. Terrel was no help as well, as I watched him beat small children with sticks as a human and rip off woman’s limbs and dash them around playfully while as a Wolf.
He tried to teach me the joys the necrophilia and how to get off on killing someone, which he seemed to find very enjoyable and did in the middle of a screaming crowed, but I never got into the swing. For the first few weeks, I did pretty good at hanging back away from the crowd and just watching everyone go on with their lives in the coven. But first, before I get into the rest, let me explain the coven and the way they transform.

When I was first brought to the coven, I was, well amazed. I would never have assumed that the Wolves had built up such a large community, but like most humans, I was brought up in a life of denial. After what I thought was Terrel’s rash thinking of turning me into one of them (apparently he had known I was in that town since the coven came within 5 miles of it, and had gone through all the necessary preparations to turn me over. That’s why he seemed so ready to do it and prepared. He also had to take the powder when he transformed, for if he didn’t, he had a bad habit of killing his own kind; it was more of a precaution for him and them. So that’s why he also had control after his transformations. This was all filled in to my a bit later), he had carried my weak and fragile body on his back, out of the city, and into the desert which surrounded our lush haven.
I had never seen the desert at that time, and it was actually more beautiful then I had thought. It was like a vast ocean of sand and death, white and dry and very bright. The whole time he brought me back was very fuzzy; I was jacked up on a number of things, and admiring my surroundings wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind.
After what seemed like hours of wadding through sand and rocks, we came to a large mass of tents, small buildings; a city built out in the middle of this expansion of death and decay. I had shifted myself so my head was resting between his proclaimed shoulder blades, and I thought the small city was a hallucination. But when he turned back into a human, naked and dark skinned, and slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, I knew it was real.
I was brought to a rather large tent, made out of thick canvas that blended in with the sand.