A New Life

                                                   Episode 1
The young one has no idea the sort of power he wields.
Not even the slightest clue.
What are we to do with him?
We will wait.
Wait?
For such a time as he is ready to accept what he has been destined to be offered.
What he is meant to become.
Who he will be.
When will the time come?
Whenever his soul is prepared.
We will bide our time, then.
Watching for when his mind has awakened.
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Steven Termy slept that night with strange dreams yet again; but no matter how eccentric, he could never hold onto the memories of his dreams for any more than a few moments after he got up from bed, an act which he performed dutifully this morning at the sound of an alarm clock.  If only one could record their dreams, then they might be able to know a great deal more about themselves, Steven often thought; but this technology would not be available for some time, if ever.  For now, it seemed, the mysteries of the mind at night would have to remain so shrouded.
Living alone in a small, dilapidated apartment outside of campus, the young college student seemed to enjoy peace in solitude—attending to his studies, getting good grades, and impressing the professors; but he was a bit of a social outcast, with very few friends who he deemed trustworthy.  Relationships beyond mere acquaintanceship were difficult for Steven, a product of a past filled with betrayals by false allies.  He had always been an extraordinarily thin boy, somewhat short, ribs showing, rectangular glasses, and a reserved, quiet nature to boot: a perfect target for the thugs romping in the streets of the city that used to be his residence while living with his parents.  Once beaten to within an inch of his life behind his high school simply because the assailants knew he would not put up a fight, Steven now walked with a permanent limp in his left leg where the bones did not grow back quite properly.  
Other aspects of his appearance were no more photogenic: his left hand had two circle-shaped scars from a bite by a neighborhood dog (which went untreated except by bleach) and his right wrist had a cyst growing just beneath the surface of the skin that made a plateau behind where his hand met his forearm.  However, his facial features were relatively fair, with a sharp chin, thin moustache, defined cheekbones, and shaggy but well-kept hair.  If it weren’t for the fact that he would go unshaven for a week at a time, mostly due to the inconvenience of the act having to fit into his hectic schedule, he might actually be quite handsome; but his low self-confidence did not permit him to even entertain a girlfriend as a possibility, so he would let the matter of general hygiene take a backseat to his own intellectual pursuits.
Today started just as any other day in his life, with English Comp in the morning—following his habitual sunrise tea, of course—a Chem lab around noon, lunch at home after that, a Calculus class following, and as the evening came around, Steven went to meet one of the very few friends he had at the Starbucks around the corner from his house.
“Hey John, how’s it going?” Steven called as he opened the door to the coffee shop, barely looking to see if the intended recipient of the comment was even there at all.
“Not too bad, I suppose.  And on your end?”
“Eh…about the same.”  Steven approached the counter and ordered a tall Chai, turning around to face John, “So I heard that you had a hot date last night.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Mutual interest in the same movies and restaurants among good friends.”
“Uh huh, thanks,” Steven said as he grabbed his drink from the employee and found his way into the seat across from his friend.  “How did it go?”
“Great dude, I think she’s really interested in me.”
“Good for you.”
Looking intently at the way Steven held his face with one palm and slouched, John asked, concerned, “Something the matter?  What’s bugging you?”
“Nothing…I don’t think…there’s just no reason for it, but I have this sudden feeling like something’s up.  I get weird feelings like this a lot, but I can never find an explanation as to why I should have them.  It’s nothing, it will go away soon.”
“You are a strange man, my friend.  If you ever need anything you can always call me, you know that, right?”
“Sure thing man, I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
A long silence came over the two, broken only by the irregular sipping of their drinks and the cars rushing by on the street outside.  Receding into deep internal thought, Steven stopped sensing the world around him…why did he get these vibes?, why did he sometimes seem so in tune with everything else when he barely understood what went on within himself?, why…
John was waving his hand in front of Steven’s eyes.  “Oh…sorry, I kind of spaced out there.”
“Yeah you did.  Something’s got to be on your mind.”
“It’s nothing, I swear.  I don’t even know what I’m worried about.”
“Well I need to get some sleep tonight; I have a lot of classes tomorrow.  You need a lift home?”
“Nah.  You know I live like half a block down.  I’ll walk.”
John gave a slight pause before responding, gulping down the last of his coffee, “Good seeing you again.”
“Yep.  I’ll see you soon?”
Walking to the door and propping it open against his foot, John said with relative finality, “You bet, Steven.  Have a good one.”
“You too, John.  Good night.”
Steven sat a few minutes more as he finished up his own beverage, thinking about his premonitions that he always tried to write off so hastily as an upset stomach or stress from work.  But though he was not always correct, it was eerie how often these unprovoked feelings preceded something that would change the course of the day, if nothing else.  There were countless instances of a great rush of well-being coming just before a favorable grade report in high school, or contrastingly, a sense of dread when someone was going to pick a fight with him.  Steven correctly predicted the next song to play on the radio on multiple occasions, but it had to be dumb luck…didn’t it?
Steven threw the now empty cup into the trash, stepped outside of the restaurant, and proceeded at a leisurely pace down the street.  He had walked this road so many times, he could tell another person exactly where every piece of garbage and useless scrap of junk lay in between the planks on the broken fence-lines.  A can shot with BBs here, a chunk of a Goodyear tire there, a severed piece of chain…
“Hey, punk!  Gimme your money!”
A voice came from behind Steven, apparently justifying his ill “vibes” once again.
“You deaf!!  Cough it up!”
The worst thing that could happen right now just did, Steven was out of cash, and his guest would not be pleased to hear that.  But it would be better to tell him the truth and have the fact confirmed than to lie and be caught without the goods, if you will.  “Sir, I have no money.”
“No money!  No money!!!  Yeah we’ll see about that!”
Serves me right for joining a community college, Steven thought to himself as the gang man approached.  “Come on out boys!  Let’s show this kid how to learn some respect!!”
And in a matter of seconds, the mob was on top of him.  He fell to the ground amidst a flurry of kicks and punches.  He couldn’t even keep track of how many times he was hit, the air was just getting forced from his lungs over, and over, and over…but then, the attacks slowed.
“Dude check this out!!”  The voices seemed so distant.  Steven was delirious.
“What’s happenin’ to him?”
“Jeez, let’s get outta here, man!”
“Go go go!!!”
They ran away, and Steven could hear their footsteps trailing off in all directions.  He almost breathed a sigh of relief, but the pain of the abuse was replaced by a different feeling…
Hello Steven.
A voice called out from nowhere in particular.  “Who…who’s that?”
We are you Steven.  You didn’t know yourself, but now it is time.
“I didn’t know myself?  What is it that you mea…uh”
A strange sensation went through Steven’s lower body, a sensation he had never felt before, “Am I bleeding, did I break something?”
Dragging himself into the edge of the woods across the street, Steven made sure he was behind several bushes and a few trees before checking his body for injuries.  He could see nothing wrong with his…wait, “What’s wrong with my feet!?”
Even as he looked, his feet were elongating, claws growing from his toes, his heel bones shrinking in size until they became a part of his ankles.  “What the…hell…”  Fur crawled up his legs as his lowermost appendages finished their transformation, “Wolf’s feet?”
As the fur migrated up his body, Steven’s muscles grew larger, became more defined, and made his clothes a bit uncomfortably tight.  When at the point of pain, he removed his pants and underwear and tossed them aside, his extreme modesty bowing to the pressures of physical harm.  With no more inhibitions, the changes continued with renewed speed: his anatomy changed to become analogous to a wolf, and he rolled to his side to make way for a long, bushy tail the came from his rear.  “A werewolf?  This can’t be real!”
But the fur kept going up his back, Steven throwing off his shirt voluntarily to monitor what was happening to him.  His hands grew claws of their own, his face pushed out into a snout, his ears grew longer, he received more canine teeth, his eyes achieved a strange yellow glow, and a red, dimly shining design carved its way through his right arm.  Then all was still.
Steven slowly got up, unsteadily wobbling on his digitigrade legs.  “What just happened here?...”
You, my son.  Have achieved the first stage of your enlightenment.