Peak Moon: The hunted Alpha

EPISODE 4

Matvey set his spoon down. The whole table went quiet.

“Ten years ago,” he began, eyes on Ema but voice loud enough for everyone, “our nation, Crussland, went to war with the West and its allies. They called it the Continental Wars. For most of it, the West had the upper hand. The standing of our nation on the world stage was falling apart. Our president…”

“Maybe he’s still your president, Matvey,” Hurtis cut in. “But he’s not mine.”

“For the sake of the story, and for the girl,” Matvey said with a small, dry smile. “He’s still your president too. Or why else would our asses be on fire?”

The men laughed. He hadn’t even meant it as a joke.

“So, baby,” Matvey continued, brushing Ema’s hair back. “President Salven Ivanov was told by his security council about people with special abilities living among us…”

The scene cuts to the ARMY HEADQUARTERS, CAPITAL CITY about some ten years ago.

“What do you think about these special individuals, Colonel Markov?” President Salven Ivanov asked. “Can we use them in this war?”

Markov was only a colonel then. He presented some photos to the president. Pictures of some werewolves in their half-human, half-wolf figures caught mid-transformation were splattered on the president’s table, as he looked at them one by one with the most delicate scrutiny.

General Martin scoffed. “Are these even real, sir?” He never liked Markov. No one knew why.

“They’re real, Mr. President. Very real,” Markov assured him.

“And how were these taken?” Ivanov flipped through them.

“By Maria Penn. Award-winning photographer. She was here just before the war.”

“So she was researching this?”

“Yes. After she witnessed a transformation in her late husband’s village in Hitchcock, she started documenting them.”

“Was this published?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Ivanov closed the folder. “General Martin, find her. Buy the rights. Bury it. The public must never see this. Not even the Americans.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“So these… werewolves,” Ivanov said the word carefully. “They live normal lives?”

“Everything is normal, sir. Jobs. College. Music. Sports. They only change under the full moon. A few rare ones can shift at will.”

“Excellent.” Ivanov leaned back. “I don’t need more. Weaponize them. Find their leaders. Tell them to organize. Tell them they fight for Crussland. If the West wins, there won’t be a Crussland left. They’ll break us into pieces and erase us from history.”

“Yes, sir.” Markov bowed.

“Then get to work.”

Markov’s first stop was Druid. The only alpha he knew at the time. He found him in a garage, elbow-deep in an engine.

“We want to offer you elite status,” Markov said. “Special forces. We can channel that strength of yours to save the country from what’s coming.”

Druid spun a wrench in his hand. “Appreciate it, Colonel. But I’m good here. I run my own shop. I pay my taxes. I don’t cause problems.”

“And when the West wins and shuts down our factories? What will you fix then?”

“Western cars, I guess.”

“Not the same,” Markov sighed. “A gift like yours… it’s meant to be used, Druid. Not wasted.”

Druid didn’t look up. He kept working on the hood of a Cruss Dodge. Big man. Beard. Arms covered in hair.

“Nice car,” Markov tried. “Rare model. I had one when I first enlisted.”

Nobody asked.” Dissed Druid.

Markov set a small briefcase on the workbench. “A gift. From the President.”

Druid opened it. Inside: stacks of Cruss notes.

“That’s 2 million Cruss notes,” Markov said. He would have kept the cash as a last resort if Druid wasn’t corporate.

“I don’t need this money…”

“But your daughter’s rare sickness is beyond your power to heal. With this, you could transport her to India for a real heart transplant. How long does she have to suffer wearing a ventilator all around…even at school? Isn’t the shame for her and for you as a father not damning? Come on, don’t be stubborn. We just want Crussland to come on top in this war. You will receive national medals and merit honors. The cash is small, you and your wolf people will enjoy more perks.”

The Druid stared at Markov as he searched for secrets unknown. He didn’t trust the government, but he was listening to the news daily and the war wasn’t looking good for his country.

“Okay, I’ll think about the country. I’ll talk with the pack I lead,” Druid promised.

“That’ll be good. And you see, if you can talk with leaders from other groups, as I said…we’re building an army of were wolves.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” reassured Druid.

“I'd like to have your number,” Markov requested. Not like the army didn’t have a Druid's phone number, but Markov asked to make Druid feel he was in control at some point and that the exchange of numbers would mean something mutual was being established as friends.

Druid wrote his number for the colonel and Markov left. In one month, werewolves from across the country would meet in a boot camp. The training began, and the werewolves were taught the primary military training every cadet went through, after which the alphas, understanding their bodies better than other normal humans, would lead much of the training that had to do with controlling their powers and metamorphosis. The werewolves would be trained in gun handling, machine handling, driving and every other general skill training.

“You see, we thought we were doing good by humanity, and you wouldn’t blame us. Many of us went with genuine intentions of serving our native land,” Martvey said, the scene returning to the dining room where he explained things to his precocious young daughter.

“But there’s something about men and how deep their hearts are. President Ivanov won the Continental wars thanks to the ferocity of the werewolves during the ground assault. But then he feared we were too powerful given how we had performed. He said we would take over his government. Everything involving us was kept secret. Our training was secret. The populace don’t even know we exist. And as that, President Ivanov wasn’t under pressure to give us medals in the open. His next line of action was to kill all of us lest we overthrow his government.”

“He believes we know too much about the army’s operation. He also refused to integrate us into the army after the war,” said Hurtis.

The scene returned to the cabinet quarters of the government in the capital city. President Salven Ivanov and a few faithful top army generals are seated at a table discussing secret affairs. The rain is falling, and the sky is tinted grey. The room where they seat is illumined with electric light, so the blackish clouds of the rainy sky doesn’t deter them at all.

“… They would dominate normal human beings and probably take power craftily. One day our nation will be ruled by werewolves and nobody will catch up with it. We would be afraid of them. So before that happens, it’s best we exterminate them.” President Ivanov shared his new project.

“Markov!” The president called out.