Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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The Prodigal and the Pack: Chapter One
The following story contains scenes sexual themes and situations including incest. This story also contains supernatural/fantasy/horror elements. If none of that is your cup of tea, just hit your back button. All persons depicted unless otherwise noted are 18 years of age or older. This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this work are either products if the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Copyright 2021 by D.S.M.
Thank you for reading!
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Part One: Zack
Let me get two things out of the way up front. Thing One: I know that you won’t believe that what I am about to tell you is a true story. No one believes me, and I’ve come to the point where I’m okay with that now. But that doesn’t change the fact that every word of it is true. And in the end, it is probably best that no one believes me; safer that way for everyone involved.
Thing Two: Werewolves are real. Yeah. I see you looking discreetly for your phone to call the men in the white coats. I get it. I was just like you once. Blissfully ignorant of the horrors hidden behind the curtain of our mundane lives. They are out there though. And I’m not talking Lon Chaney werewolves either. I’m talking American Werewolf in London werewolves. Hairy, clawed, fanged, and terrifying. Monsters are real, and count yourself lucky that you never run into one.
Me, I’m not so lucky. Or maybe I am. It’s hard to say now. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that shit. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me go back to the beginning. I’m going to tell you a story you won’t believe about werewolves that are definitely not real except they totally are.
Let me tell you a little bit about myself. My name is Zack Wilson, and I’m a freshman at a large midwestern college. I’m a performing arts major with an emphasis in dance. I grew up in Illinois, in a distant suburb of Chicago. I’m 18, 5’10” 175 pounds, with what I’m told, is a tight, athletic build. You would probably say I’m more of a twink than a jock. However, I might just surprise you. I got skills. And I can certainly dance your ass off.
Interesting fact: I’m adopted. I know next to nothing about my birth parents, except that I was found at the scene of a terrible car accident where my birth mother was killed. I survived. Mysteriously, they found no ID, no records of her or my identity. So I started life as a John Doe.
Despite all that random tragedy, I’ve had a pretty great life so far. I have wonderful adoptive parents who love and support me. I fell in love with dance at an early age, and was blessed with a natural grace and skill. I came out as gay in High School and aside from the usual assholes, I didn’t have too many problems. When it came time to think about college, I wanted to have the experience of leaving the nest. I am a good student and a great dancer, so I had options. I found a good sized midwestern school with an excellent performing arts program, and away I went.
When I arrived, I threw myself into school. Classes were challenging, and I made some new friends. I started connecting with some of the other performing arts students. Got involved in the campus LGBTQ club. No romance yet, but I was open to the prospect.
It was the weekend before Halloween when my friend Jessica talked me into going to my first college party. It was a big bonfire party held off campus, and thrown by some of the upper-classmen in the theater department. Apparently it was a yearly tradition and one of the biggest parties of the year. I was reluctant, as I’m not exactly the outdoorsy type. My idea of camping is a hotel without room service. Smelling of wood smoke and cheap beer is not really my thing, but Jessica twisted my arm and teased me with the promise of cute boys. My kryptonite. Honestly, my college dating life had been nonexistent so far, so I was definitely ready to meet someone new. Or at least hook up.
And that’s how I found myself out in the middle of nowhere at a party in the woods. I reluctantly have to admit, it was fun. The atmosphere was perfect for the halloween season. It was a cool late October night, with a full moon just rising above the horizon. There was a large clearing where the bonfire had been set. The music was good, with a DJ playing some boppin tunes, giving me a chance to show off my moves. The beer was bad but plentiful. The weed was good and also plentiful! There were plenty of new people to meet, and even a few guys who seemed interested! Over all, it was exactly how I pictured my first real college party.
Just as I was starting to feel grateful to Jessica for bringing me out here, she showed up with shots. Fucking shots. I should have known better (beer before liquor, you know the rest). But hey, it’s a party, right? So I had a couple of shots, on top of the beers I had been drinking, and the weed. And from there things start to get a little fuzzy.
I distinctly remember needing to take a piss. There were port-a-potties available, but my drunk ass decided that I was not going to use them. After all, I was out in the woods. Just find a tree and let it go. But then I decided I needed to find the right tree. I wanted to make sure I had privacy. Using the flashlight on my cell phone, I made my way into the woods. The light from the party was quickly obscured by the trees, but I could still hear the music, so I figured I was good. I took my piss, then I started to make my way back to the party. By now, the shots were fired point blank in my brain. I mean, they were really hitting me. After some time, I don’t know how long, I realized I was going the wrong way. So I turned around and headed in a different direction. I think I must have done this a few times. I wasn’t panicked or anything, though. After all, it was a big party. I’d find it eventually. I remember getting tired and thinking I needed to rest for a few minutes.
The next thing I know, I’m waking up on the ground. I had passed out leaning against a tree. My body was cold and stiff, my mouth dry. I had to pee again. I had no concept of how much time had passed except the full moon was now high in the sky. I wasn’t exactly sober but I was more sober. I groped my phone out of my pocket only to discover that it was dead. I guess I left the flashlight on. Fuck. I looked around and realized that I had no idea where I was. There was no sound from the party. No light except the bright moon over head. I stood up, using the tree for support as the ground tried to spin out from underneath me.
I took a step around the tree, and looked around to get my bearings. Ahead of me, there was a large clearing that looked like it was a field of some sort. It was in this area that a strange tableau presented itself. There was something in the clearing ahead of me, maybe 200 yards away. It was large and dark. Even with the brightness of the moon I couldn’t make it out at first. This shape was hunched over something on the ground. An animal? I pressed my fingers into my eyes to try to clear my vision. The form moved, raising up into the air. In that moment, everything sprang into perfect clarity.
The thing in the clearing had to be an animal, but like no animal I had ever seen. It was huge, at least 7 feet tall. It had a canine head, but its body was humanoid, with long arms that ended in wicked looking claws. It was covered in dark fur. Its eyes shone bright in the moonlight. Its muzzle was covered in blood. The carcass of a deer lay at its feet. I was struck by the wrong-ness of it. Later I would think about the many animal characteristics it displayed without being any animal I could recognize.
A moment passed where I didn’t move and it didn’t move. It was only a moment but it felt like forever. In the next instant several things happened simultaneously. I screamed like a 8 year old and the monster roared. It was so loud that even from a distance I could feel the vibrations of it in my chest like bass in a club. I tried to turn to run but, hey surprise, still pretty wasted! I got tangled up in my own feet and went down hard. Somehow I rolled over on my back at about the same time the thing crossed the clearing and reared over me, all teeth and claws and fur.
I knew I was fucking dead. It was crouched over me now. It roared again, this time so loud my ears rang and my eyes watered. It reared back its arms. I just knew those claws were going to rip my throat out. I felt my strained bladder let go and I pissed myself. I could hear my voice babbling incoherently, begging for my life. I cowered back, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the killing blow.
But it never came.
Instead, I felt hot breath on my face. The coppery smell of blood washed over me. I heard its deep breath rumble in its massive chest as it sniffed me. Long moments passed as the creature sniffed up and down my prone body. Finally, I opened my eyes, heart pounding in my chest. The creature was standing directly over me. And I swear to God it had an almost human expression of confusion on its face.
With an unbelievably fast move, the creature grabbed me by my jacket and lifted me off the ground and into the air. My breath froze in my chest, and felt like my heart was going to stop. I was eyeball to eyeball with the thing, and for the first time I really got a good look at it. It was undeniably canine; with the long muzzle and teeth, pointed ears, and thick fur. Yet its eyes were remarkably human looking. For the first time my brain actually formed the word: werewolf.
It let out another deep breath, and began sniffing me again, still holding me in the air. It lifted and moved my body like I weighed nothing at all. I reached out and grabbed it by its furry wrist (paw?) to hold myself steady. It brought me closer to its muzzle, before its tongue came out and licked the side of my face. What was happening? Was it tasting me?
Suddenly, the creature became more alert. It looked off into the distance, head cocked. It growled low in its chest. It looked back at me, as if unsure of what to do. With a surprisingly gentle motion, it set me back onto my feet, but I was too shook to stand, so I slipped to the ground. With a bound, the werewolf made for the trees. It looked over its shoulder at me one last time, then vanished into the night.
I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. My body began to shake uncontrollably. I lost some time then, just a few minutes. The next thing I know I hear people yelling my name. I see flashlights coming through the woods. I screamed, then I passed out. The rest was darkness.
Part Two: The Sinclairs
Conner Sinclair loved the way a hot shower felt after a long day. The basics of his sanitary routine were completed, but remained under the hot water and let it wash over his thickly muscled body. He was a big man, it a lot of ways. He felt the tension of his muscles relax under the spray. For a moment, he contemplated his flaccid cock. He felt an urge to stroke himself to hardness, letting his ten inches loose to play. Instead, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel.
He checked himself out in the bathroom mirror as he dried himself off. Not bad for a middle aged dad, he thought to himself. He was more than not bad. Conner was 6’4″, with a broad chest covered in hair that tapered to a narrow waist. He didn’t quite have an eight pack anymore, but was able to maintain a solid six. Dark haired, dark eyed, with the kind of looks that got him plenty of attention.
As he made his way from the bathroom to his bedroom, Connor wrapped the towel around his neck and remained naked. He was feeling a bit horny. He’d had a long, late run tonight. The exercise had his blood up.
There was a sound from the back of the house. Conner heard the back patio door open. That would be his eldest son, Eddie. He glanced at the clock and grinned. It was 3:15 AM.
As soon as Eddie entered the room, Conner knew something was wrong.
Eddie Sinclair was 24, and while not quite as big as his father, still an impressively built young man. Of his two sons, Eddie was the more rambunctious. Prone to jokes and pranks, Eddie sometimes drove his little brother Billy crazy. Billy was the quieter son, more studious, but no less athletic.
But tonight, Eddie’s normally jovial face was filled with worry as he entered his dad’s bedroom.
“Dad!”
“What is it, son?”
Eddie shook his head. “Something happened tonight. I think I fucked up.”
Connor sad down on his bed, and patted the space next to him. “Tell me.”
Eddie began pacing the floor. “There was a big party out by the Runyan farm. Bunch of college kids. I avoided the place while I was out for my run.”
“But?”
“But one of them must have wandered off.”
Eddie looked down, unable to continue. His dad looked at him. “And?”
“I… A college kid. He saw me.”
A spike of fear ran through Conner’s chest. Fear for his family, and fear for what he would have to ask next. “Did you take care of him, son?”
Eddie’s face was a picture of agony. “No.”
Conner sighed. “You know the law, son. No human may see us and live.”
“I know Dad, but-”
Anger flashed in Connor’s eyes. “No excuses. You have failed your pack!”
“Please, I know what I did. But, listen to me! I was ready. I know the law. It was my wolf that refused to kill him.”
“We can’t blame our wolves when we refuse to make difficult decisions.”
Eddie was desperate. He needed his Dad to understand. “His smell, Dad! His smell was something…special. And the way he looked… I don’t know how to explain it. There was something there that made my wolf refuse to strike. Punish me if you have to, but it was my wolf that made the call. And you always taught us that when in doubt, trust our wolf.”
Connor was silent for a moment. He could see the pain in his son’s eyes. And he could see truth there too.
“Tell me what happened next.”
The young man began pacing again. “I heard people coming, and went to hide in the woods to see what would happen. The kid passed out. Some people came and carried him out to the road. They called an ambulance and they took him away. Then I ran right home.”
Connor thought for a moment, then turned to his son. “They would have taken him to University Hospital. Go shower and get dressed. 10 minutes. Hustle.”
“Should I wake Billy?”
“Fuck no. Let him have the good night’s sleep we’re not going to get. Get a move on, now.”
Eddie rushed out of the room.
Connor walked over to his closet and opened the door. He took a khaki uniform shirt and pulled it on. From a drawer he took a matching pair of uniform pants. Quickly lacing up his shoes, he added his gun belt. Finally, he pinned the shiny sheriff’s badge to his broad chest.
A part of him wanted to believe that Eddie’s wolf had found something special about this human. He wanted to believe that sparing his life was not a case where his son was unable or unwilling to follow the law to protect the pack.
There was just one way to find out. Conner would find this kid and see for himself. Maybe the situation could be salvaged. And if necessary, he would carry out his duty as the alpha, and force his son to carry out the law of the pack.