Prolouge......

 

In the dark alley, hell had broken loose. The rain was pouring harder than ever, leaving thick puddles of water and muck. Not a single thing in the alley still stood, save for maybe the trembling young, woman in the yellow raincoat, holding her groceries, but she wasn't going to be standing for long. A snarling monster wolf covered in mangled mush of jet black hair crouched into pouncing form in front of her. Its long snout was dripping with blood and the long row of teeth below still had pieces of flesh from its last meal wedged between the miniature knives. A werewolf, if you hadn't guessed it, was about to be upon her.

            Why did I have to look into this damn alley, she asked herself. Regret was the only the only emotion that she could feel. That and fear.

            The beast-man took a step forward. Its single eye, like a small ruby, stared at her with no thought in its mind but to eat. She finally broke down into tears, seeing that she was never going to make it out of the alley alive. Her legs gave in to the rush of emotions and she fell heavily into a puddle. She hit her head on the garbage bin next to and fell unconscious. The beast didn't care. It saw that the prey was down and wasn't going anywhere. Now it was time for what every werewolf loved to do to such a victim. Play with it. He took a claw and scratched a vein on her neck and blood oozed out. It started to lick the blood off her neck like a normal dog would from a water bowl.

            The werewolf's head jolted up. Its ears twitched. It heard the sound of a tiny wine, like a cheap camera charging its flash. It looked up to see a little red dot shining from the fire escape above. This little red dot was actually the scope of a silver hand-gun being held by a man. He was in a grey, full body, skin-tight, suit that kept the monster from picking up his scent. It had to cover his face to so over his eyes was thin pair of goggles. And over his mouth was a special filter that let him breathe silently and gave off a scentless breath.

            He pulled the trigger of the gun and a blue flash bursted out from the gun and nailed the beast in the face. It sent the beast across the alley out into the street.

            There was a tiny mike by his ear and mouth.

            "He's heading your way," he said as he jumped down after it.  

            "I see him," replied a woman's voice.

            She was laying over the edge of the building right across from the alley with, wearing the same suit as the man. She was looking through the scope of a silver battle rifle with a very narrow barrel. She saw the wolf fly out and zoomed in on the back of the werewolf's neck. She fired and a needle thin blue light went through the monster's neck. The werewolf didn't get back up.

            "Good shot," the man told her through the mike.

            "Get the van over hears before anyone sees us. The field is going down in ten minutes," she told him coldly.

            "Oh right," the man grunted as he went for the van parked outside the alley.

            The woman flicked a spot under her chin and the suit retracted from her head. Her long black hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. She stroked through her fine hair gently and took in the not so fresh air she hadn't had since the stakeout for the werewolf had begun. That was five hours ago. After two hours, the purity of the air usually would make you dizzy. She got over the dizziness but then came the nasty after taste.

            The woman slung the rifle over her shoulder and climbed down the fire escape to the street. She pulled out a phone from a pocket on her waist. She dialed a number.

            "I'm guessing that things went fine with the werewolf, Jule?" answered an old woman.

            "Yes ma'am," she answered swiftly, "I request you send a healer down here. The victim probably has an ounce of werewolf saliva in her. The sooner she can vaccinated, the better."

            Most people think that if you were infected with werewolf DNA you'd be turned into one. This was only fiction. This belief had actually led to a series of delusional psychopaths who wanted the power of werewolves. The monster's saliva was actually paralyzing venom that could kill people in a day. Everyone who attempted to become a werewolf was always found dead.

            "I understand. Over and out," the receiver hung up.

            A black van backed up next to the werewolf and the man came out of the driver's side with his head revealed. He was man in his mid-twenties, with blonde spiked-up hair.

            "Good thing he's not too big, right Commander?" he commented.

            Her glare only grew harsher as he stared.

            "It's a female, you idiot. Did you ever pay any attention to your analogy classes?"

            "Barely. With a little cheating here and there. I don't think analogy is that big of a deal," he said bluntly.

            "Analogy is possibly the most important thing in the field, Private Strart. You could have knocked it out with one shot had you known where to shoot at. Do you know where that is on this subject?"

            Strart gave a careless shrug, “I guess on the back of the neck?"

            He fell right into, she thought

            "Wrong. That is if you want to kill it. If you wanted to knock it out, than I suggest you shoot the side of the head with a sonic blast."

            "I apologize, Commander, for my ignorance," he quipped.

            "That's ok. You can think about it during your spare time doing paper work for a whole year."

            It was like a sucker punch to the guy.

            "B-b-b-but why?"

            She rubbed her temple.

            "You couldn't tell the difference between male and a female werewolf, that is one of the most basic things a field officer of the PCC should be able to do, and I simply don't like your attitude. No more talk. Help me load this thing up."

            She opened the back of the van revealing a large metal cage. She than stretched her hands forward and the guy mirrored. They both squeezed their fingers and a blue aura surrounded. It was a mechanism that allowed them to weaken the gravitational pull on an object. This was used to move heavy specimen into the cages. They raised their hands. The beast was lifted off the ground. They aimed their hands to the van and the beast slowly floated into the cage. The man slammed the doors.

            A small black car pulled up and a small, bald man in black scrubs walked towards to the woman still lying in the alley. His face was like skull wrapped as tightly as possible with pale skin. The round, ink black, shades over his eyes looked as if they were hiding something. He carried a small black suitcase. He crouched over the victim, studying the scratch on her neck.

            "It could have helped if you moved her out of the water, Commander Redilia," he grumbled.

            "Good to see you too, Dr. Pestrox," Jule replied with pure casualty.

            "What did the thing do? Lick her cut?" he asked, getting straight to buisness. He opened the briefcase and in it was an assortment of medical supplies. He pulled out a vile of lime-green liquid on the wound giving off a hiss, as if it was burning the skin.

            "Yes sir," Strart said stepping forward.

            "And you couldn't shoot the blasted animal before the thing wounded her?" he spat

            "I wanted to wait for it to be drunk on blood, sir," Start said with this cocky "I did the smart thing" on his face, "When it was most vulnerable."

            The doctor's dimple twitched "Isn't that an old technique? One that was made obsolete because of the expense of anti-werewolf venom serum?"

            "I believe that's right doctor," answered Jule.

            "And why didn't you stop him?" the doctor whispered to her as he got.

            "You know me. I let the rookies learn the hard way and if it costs one lousy serum, than so be it."

            "Not going to be a rookie for much longer," Strart muttered, crossing his arms.

            "What do you mean?" the doctor giggled.

            "There's going to be whole bunch of recruits from the academy coming in tomorrow and I heard that most are barely eight-teen," he answered.

            "And how does that miraculously turn you into something other than a rookie?" the doctor asked rhetorically.

Reviews

[Michael Raymond Robinso..]

This is a very rough draft. I suggest two things, read it aloud when done and use a thesaurus. I'm not being rude, but helpful. One of the tools I downloaded was a GodSend, WordWeb, it's a nice tool to use while writing.
Also, I cannot determine the POV (point of view) character, it's more of a narrative. IE you the writer telling me the reader the story. Show me, don't tell me. Let me see it from the character's prospective. Get into the soul and mind of Jule, let us know what makes her tick. Enliven my senses.

The tale is interesing, kind of like the old series SUV crossed with Men in Black and a touch of X-Files. Keep on writing.