Chapter 2: PROLOGUE PART 2


    Feral Colorado…


    Content ? N?velDrama.Org 2024.


    Stanton stood over the graves of his parents. They had both been killed by hunters. Last year Stanton


    and his folks had moved to Feral from Montana when they heard rumour of a sanctuary for people like


    them. Stanton was a Lycanthrope, or as the Hollywood and humans called them, a werewolf. When


    they arrived in Aspenst year, it didn’t take long for them to learn where Feral was. It wasn’t really a


    small town outside of Aspen. The poption was barely more than fifty. They had only a few public


    buildings and then a handful of residences. Stanton and his parents had been pleased when they


    learned that every resident in Feral was a Lycan just like them. Feral wasn’t a town… it was a Lycan


    pack. The first andrgest in over four hundred years. It quickly became a home.


    Only they were not the only ones to have heard about the uniqueness of the people that called feral


    home. Justst week, they were attacked by a three-man team of hunters, humans that knew what


    they were and were trained to kill people like them. They had failed to wipe out the pack. The pack was


    just too big for a three-man team, and hunters did not typically travel inrge numbers. That was their


    mistake. The pack killed them, but not before the hunters managed to kill five of their pack members.


    Two of which had been Stanton’s parents.


    So now Stanton was fourteen and orphaned, but he wasn’t alone in the world. Standing next to him


    was Gordon Wilder, the pack leader, the Alpha. He was an intimidating man in his thirties. Then again,


    most Alphas were intimidating. They were a whole different breed of wolf than the rest of them. Stanton


    was only an adulterant, but he was a known Bata. Most Lycans demonstrated traits from birth that


    ced them in the wolf hierarchy. Most wolves were Omegas, while some were Bata’s, and even fewer


    were Alpha. No one designated anyone as one or the other they just sensed it. It was a sixth sense that


    prevented rivalries and fighting over the chain ofmand.


    As some of the Omegas began to shovel dirt into the graves located in the small but growing graveyard


    just south of Feral, Gordon put his hand supportively on Stanton’s shoulder. “I’m alone in the world,”


    Stanton said sadly.


    “You are orphaned,” Gordon corrected him, “but you are not alone in this world. Gordon turned to face


    Stanton. “At some point, we all end up orphaned.”


    Stanton knew this to be true. Most Lycan parents never lived to see their children grown. Most of them


    died protecting their cubs. In all honesty, Stanton knew they were not immortal. They could be killed,


    granted. It wasn’t easy to kill a Lycan, but it could be done. Stanton had no idea how long they lived if


    left to nature. None of them did. The sad fact of the matter was no Lycan had ever died of natural


    causes. He wasn’t sure what their life expectancy was. But at the age of thirty-four, Gordon was one of


    the oldest Lycans to be walking the earth, and he had only lived this long because of the pack. They


    protected each other.


    “You are part of the pack,” Gordon told him. “We protect each other. We provide for each other. We


    may not be blood, but we are family, and you… will never be alone.”


    ***


    Las Vegas, Nevada, nine yearster…


    Aurora stepped off the bus at the bus station. She looked around at all the bright lights of Las Vegas.


    There was a feeling of excitement in the air. Aurora was only fourteen, and this was the fifth time she


    had run away from the orphanage. She had gotten to the age where she was too old for anyone to


    want to adopt her, so she was, like the other kids her age, was just waiting to age out of the system.


    Only Aurora was like other kids. She was very different. She had something inside her, something evil.


    Something that she could not control. Something even she didn’t understand. When she got angry, a


    monster took over.


    The other kids feared her, so she had no friends, parents thought her weird, so no one wanted to adopt


    her, and the nuns thought she was possessed by a demon, and after four exorcisms, they had failed to


    cast the devil out of her. Each exorcism had been long and brutal, and she had barely survived thest


    one. So, she had decided to run away again. Only the cops kept bringing her back. So, this time, she


    stole money from the charity te and skipped town. She bought a bus ticket to a busy city and hoped


    to disappear. In all truth, she doubted very much the nuns or the Seattle PD would try too hard to find


    her.


    Aurora spent the next three days wandering the streets of Las Vegas. She was penniless and hungry. It


    was winter, and even though there was no snow, it was raining, and she was freezing. She would sleep


    under some dirty cardboard she found in an alley. She settled in behind a dumpster and tried to get


    some rest, but sleep did note easy.


    After a few days without food, Aurora sat at a bus stop watching the prostitutes across the street


    walking the block and trying to get some business. Aurora was starving and cold and dirty. She would


    go for some food, a hot shower, and a bed to sleep in, if even for just an hour. Suddenly a crappy little


    car pulled up to the bench she was sitting on. The middle-aged driver rolled down his window and


    leaned over the seat, looking at her. “Hey,” he called to her, “how much?”


    Aurora didn’t know what to say. This man thought she was one of the prostitutes working the block.


    She couldn’t do that… could she? Then again, it would get her indoors for a little while, and the money


    he would give her would buy her something to eat. Aurora bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, and then she


    stood up and walked over to the car. She ced her hand on the roof and leaned into the window. “$50


    for an hour. But you have to pay for the motel room.”


    The man smiled. “Alright, littledy, get in,” Aurora reluctantly got in the car. The man took her to a


    nearby motel, and she waited in the car well he paid for the room. Once inside the room, he was all


    over her. Aurora hated every moment of it, and when it was over, he got dressed and tossed a fifty-


    dor bill on the bed at her feet, then left. Aurora grabbed the money and stuffed it in her jeans pocket.


    She then went into the bathroom and showered under a steady stream of scolding water, trying to wash


    away the events of the night. When she was washed, she went out to the vending machine a few suites


    over and bought an armful of food and then returned to the room. Since it was paid for, she decided to


    spend the night. She gorged on junk food and watched Tv, then she slept in the bed ande


    morning, she was back on the streets.


    ***


    Feral Colorado…


    Stanton shook hands with the foremen of the road construction crew that had been tearing up the


    highway for thest six months. He needed a job after being fired from hisst for telling the foreman


    off. But the dumbass had walked right in behind Stanton’s cement truck when he was backing up.


    Stanton had almost hit him, but he had stepped on the breaks quickly, narrowly missing a fatal


    ident. Now for most people, the foreman might have just lectured him and written him up, but when


    Stanton got out of his truck to confront the man and had lost his temper and started yelling, the man


    had taken it as a personal attack. He imed that Stanton was threatening him.


    He had not actually threatened the man, but at the tender age of twenty-three, Stanton had grown into


    a veryrge and intimidating figure. He stood nearly 6’7” and was three-hundred-fifty pounds of solid


    muscle. His short copper hair was shabby and tussled from being under his hardhat, and his square


    chiselled jaw was shadowed by short stubble he had been toozy to shave daily. His huge hands


    were rough and calloused. He had the same amber eyes all Lycan’s had. By conventional standards,


    Stanton was one big ugly man. Females were far from knocking down his door. He never smiled, and


    people found him unapproachable and unfriendly. His voice was deep, and when he yelled, it boomed,


    and people jumped.


    Stanton never smiled because when he did, he gave off a serial killer vibe. People feared him. They


    believe he probably had severed heads in his fridge and wore other people’s skin instead of PJ’s when


    he went to bed at night. Needless to say, his people skills were less than desirable, and with the


    exception of having to deal with people so that he could work and contribute to the pack, Stanton had


    no social life outside the Feral. His only friends in the world were other members of the pack, and he


    liked that way.


    But since he yelled and his appearance was frightening, to say the least, the boss had imed Stanton


    attacked him but really, all he had done was raise his voice. So here he was looking for a new job. He


    simply walked up to the foreman on this crew while they were working. He introduced himself and said.


    “You need me,” he didn’t ask if they had a position avable or if they were hiring. He simply told the


    man that he needed Stanton and that he would show up for his first shift the following morning. His


    confidence had impressed the foreman, and he was hired. He was hired as their new backhoe


    operator, and he started at 5:00 am tomorrow morning. Now Stanton had never worked a backhoe, but


    he would learn.