She kept her gaze on the wolf that is hovering over her broken body, its eyes in a dance of ever changing colors. It is them who turned it this way, changing its once midnight globes into hues of orange and red.

Using the tip of its nose, the wolf nudge on her shoulder. It released an ear splitting howl as its saliva slowly dripped over her cheek.

If anyone had seen her and the beast that is constantly growling on top of her, one might think it's trying to harm her. But no, it can never—because Machi knows, the beast, despite the perplexity of it, loves and cares for her. Yes, the wolf—the thing that they spend countless hours of experimenting on, subjected to unimaginable pain and terror, taken from its pack and held captive inside a lab—is in move with her.

How can such a thing happen, you might ask. Machi has no answer.

The only thing that is clear, is the loving gaze the beast surprisingly kept on her, from the moment it was taken into captivity.

Another howl erupted from the beast, disturbing the silence of the night—forcing the sleeping birds perched on the tree above them to flap their wings and take flight.

She can even hear the scurrying of tiny animals from around them, desperate to vacate the land surrounding her and the beast.

The wound on her stomach has already developed into a life threatening one. Puss has enveloped the entire wound from the inside.

Even the blood that flowed out of it, is now mixed with a yellowish substance. She knows she will not long.

The beast hovering above her in all fours must have sensed her impending doom. It moved away and released a thundering howl, she can see the desperation in its movements.

It ran from one tree trunk to another, bumping its body ferociously on everything in its wake. It howled and howled, and if Machi didn't know any better—she would say its crying. The wolf's relentless persuit to hurt itself persisted for nearly an hour, until it looked up at the silver moon. Keeping its gaze on the sphere that dominated the night sky, It howled again.

Machi smiled, did the beast remember what she said? Did it somehow remember that Machi thinks of the moon as a thing that grants wishes? Is the beast wishing for something?

She closed her eyes, hoping her life will end before any of her father's men finds her and the beast.

If one will ask Machi, what are you doing in a mountain, with a crazy wolf as a companion? She will give a simple answer, an answer which may sound crazy, stupid, neurotic or probably the ramblings of a psychotic teen—she will never care, because she is here, due to love.

She fell inlove with an animal, a wolf known by many scientist as (Experiment 3000.)

An experiment, who holds the key to the future of war and power. An experiment, which never should have been.

Another howl permeated from Machi and the beast's spot, followed by the rusting of dried leaves on the ground. The beast gazed at her, and slowly, the fur that covered its body receded, its hind legs began to stretch—its spine gave out a loud crack as it slowly stood on only two legs, its paws stretched and curved and only stopped after mimicking a human's toe. The front legs which Machi always thought was the fluffiest part of him turned into limbs, and the paws on it too, transformed into fingers.

The beast's head caved in, its snout seemingly sucked beneath its face, slowly turning into that of a human nose and mouth, but its eyes remained thesame. For Machi, it is the one thing that she is glad to have not changed. The gaze it gave her remained intense, loving and full of concern.

The world must never know of the beast's existence. It will alter the balance of humanity. What will happen if she allows such monstrosity to continue?

But, is it because she didn't want experiment 3000 to threathen the world, or is it because she refuses to let him be used as a weapon?

Machi can never tell, but one thing is clear. She is inlove with a beast, an abomination, created by her own hands.

The human like wolf slowly walked over to her, it opened its mouth, seemingly wanting to talk. Unfortunately, Machi had not gone beyond seeing it transform. She never had the opportunity to teach the beast anything, because the moment it managed to take the form of a human—it was taken away from her, transported to a more violent and vicious place.

That's why she came to save it. To free it and give it peace. If only she had a better plan, other than waltz right into the base and drag him out—with the entire military force on their trail, things could have taken a better turn.

Machi closed her eyes as the human wolf scooped her up from the ground. She can feel the wind whipping her hair into a tangled mess and her body shuddered as her experiment took a faster pace. It ran wildly, howling and crying. Yes, Machi can confidently say it—the wolf is crying.

She can hear it continuously howling at the silver moon, its arms around her body tightening with every leap and stride it made.

"I'm sorry" Machi whispered. The wold growled—Machi understands what it meant. "Don't give up."

The beast must have howled and growled a thousand times, leaped over hundreds of trees—before the body cradled on its arms fell limp, and breathing finally gone.

It looked down on her, and under the light of the full moon, in the middle of a clearing at the peak of a mountain—the human wolf uttered its first word.

Machi........

The five storey Manor of the Constantine family erupted with a thunderous scream, after the first born, Verra Constantine was given a task by her father—a task which she never wanted to have gotten.

Verra feared the werewolves. She had nightmares about them every night. The thought of being near near one would send her heart into over drive, how worst will she feel when surrounded by hundreds of them?

"I don't want to do it!" Verra yelled as her father signed the documents which will allow her to participate in the up-coming annual conference between the human and werewolf species.

Her father glared at her while saying "Stop being a brat and do what you're told"

After hearing her father's cold reply, Verra took a step away from his desk, she reached inside her pocket and pulled out her army knife.

Oliver Constantine shook his head while thinking "This trick again."

"If you insist on me attending that conference, I will kill myself right here! Right now!" Verra screamed as she flipped open the army knife, laying the sharpened end over her wrist.

"Fine do it" Oliver answered, and he went back into flipping the pages of the ducuments on his desk.

"E-excuse me?" his daughter yelled, the shock and amusement in her tone is quite evident.

Oliver kept his eyes on the papers in front of him, he cannot allow his daughter to keep living in fear. He is aware of his daughter's unjustified resentment towards the werewolf species. It was alright and acceptable when Verra was a child, but she is now a twenty-eight year old adult. An adult who has been begging her parents to allow her to live on her own.

Oliver is not an over protective father, therefore, allowing such a request would have been an easy decision, but he cannot, for the life of him—allow his daughter to walk out of their home, full of fear and resentment for an existence that is already a part of the human race. It will only get her in trouble. What if she landed a job with a werewolf as a manager, co-worker or worst neighbour?

The treaty stated that the werewolf community must remain in their designated half, but over the years—things changed and as the humans slowly accepted the new species, their race began to enter the human territory and vice versa.

"You have to do this Verra, it's for your own good" Oliver whispered. He is tired and old, his daughter must learn to walk the earth without her overbearing fear of the new race.

"I-I can't do it dad, please—I beg you" Verra pleaded.

Oliver shook his head, he kept his eyes on his daughter and answered, "You will do this Verra, even it means dragging your *** to that conference with both hands and feet bound."

"You're horrible!" was the last words his daughter uttered, before storming out of his home office—closing the door with a loud bang, to show her defiance.

A few hours later, Verra found herself inside her laboratory. She is a new graduate, earning a degree in medicine. She specialises in pathology. She chose this, because of one special reason, and that was the belief that the werewolves are once humans who had contracted a disease that altered their human genes. She is convinced that pathology, being the bridge between medicine and science will help her unravel the mystery behind their existence and with the use of cutting-edge genetic technologies, she will find a way to reverse this so called disease—thus ending the race which brought nothing but fear inside her heart.

Verra isn't the only human being who feraed the werewolves. There are thousands across the globe who wishes that they perish and allow humans to dominate the world once more. The werewolf race is an abomination, an existence that is not supposed to roamn the earth—that is what Verra truly believes.

"I thought you will spend the night out?" came a raspy voice, interrupting Vera's musings. She turned to face her colleague Bruce—an asian who hailed from the city of Taipei. He is a good guy, probably the only man Verra will ever allow to come close to her, other than her family members. She is aware that most werewolves are male, so she always made sure not to socialize with the male species, just to be safe.

"My father wants me to attend the annual conference." she muttered with disgust.

Bruce flinched, and Verra did not miss his sudden unease.

"Why? Is there something with what I said?" she questioned.

Bruce stared at her for a full minute before shaking his head, while asking "Why do you hate them so much?"

Verra took a deep breath then answered, "They sacre me."

"In what way?" her collegue questioned.

This time, it was Verra who shook her head, she turned away from Bruce and focused back on the specimen she held on her hand. She placed it on a slide and put it under a microscope, then began to document what she is seeing.

Understanding that he will not receive a reply, Bruce left the laboratory to face a more pressing matter.

Bruce may have lived as a normal human being, but his roots are far from normal. He is part werewolf. The reason why he studied medicine, specially pathology is due to his unnatural existence. He is a werewolf who is not able to transform. Both his parents are pure blood, so it was a big roar when he reached the age of werewolf maturity which was eight—and found out that he cannot transform like all the others. He became an abomination to their tribe, forcing him to leave the protective wings of his parents and delve into the world of the human species.

At first, he had no idea what to do. But as the years progressed, he realised that science holds the key to his problem. But what he found out, turned everything he once believed to be true, into a pile of mess.

His research brought forth, one painful truth, and that is the idea of the werewolves born from humans is in fact, true. Though the werewolf community never accepted that as reality, it is now clear to Bruce, the werewolves did sprung from the human genome. He plans to submit the data of his research to his father, who happens to be this years annual speaker. Bruce hopes, that his research will lighthen the shadow of doubt which seems to threathen the peace which had been reigning for hundreds of years.

Bruce believes, that if the humans and werewolf community realised that they are no different from each other, it can thighthen the bond between both species. But as he watched his collegue bad mouth and curse his kind, he suddenly felt hesitant. What if Verra is not the only one? What if there are hords of humans out there who finds his existence as a problem, an abomination, or worst, a parasite to the human race?

Maybe, it is not only the werewolf community who needsl enlightenment, the humans too, needs pushing.

The numerous guards that she procured nearly sent her father to have a heart attack. Verra Constantine stood beside her limousine with a wide grin plastred on her face. If her father insists on her attending the conference, whether she agrees to it or not, then she must find a way to make herself feel secured, and what better way to do that, other than hiring an entire army to watch over her.

"Verra, all guests are only allowed to have a maximum of ten guards, what the hell is this?" her father asked whilst spreading his arms on both sides.

Verra glanced around and smiled as the thirty men armed with a riffle, stared back at her.

"Well, you're sending me to a place where I feel unsafe and could be harmed any minute. It's only fair that I make myself as safe as possible." She answered smugly.

"They will never allow this Verra, so give it up," her father answered, while signaling the thirty men in front of him to disburse.

"You can't do this dad!" Verra yelled—stomping her foot on the ground as she did so, a thousand times when she was a kid. "I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions!" she added while pouting her lip like that of a child.

Oliver can oy answer with a chuckle, his daughter preached about being an adult, yet her actions is that of a child. "When you finally learn to see things clearly, only then will I allow you to decide without my interference," he answered, as he opened the door to his daughter's limousine.

"I hate you" Verra scoffed.

"I know," her father answered while she took a seat inside the vehicle.

"Now go, and try to act humane!" Oliver yelled.

***************************************

(A few kilometers from Blue Ridge Mountain.)

The hotel had never been so busy. The manager, Arthur Gosling spent the night before with his nose buried under a mountain of paper works. He never wanted to host the annual event, hell—he will pay or give out his entire fortune to not host the event.

In the past twenty years, the meeting is more like a battle field between humans and werewolves, each, ready to rip each other's throats. The peace which the annual conference symbolise no longer exists. Its as if, the conference is only held to uphold a tradition, not to follow the rules and the foundation that is its roots.

"Manager? Some of the guests began to arrived," came a soft voice from the door of his office. Arthur looked up, he fixed his eyeglasses that is now falling off the bridge of his nose and stood from his chair. "Alright, instruct the bellboys to line up in front of the hotel, and remember, no sudden movements when the wolves arrive," he commanded. "Move with caution," he added, before the two of them left the confines of his office.

Verra stepped out of the car which picked her and her entourage up, an hour ago from the airport. The Blue Ridge Hotel is famous for its magnificent architecture. Out of all the hotels that accepted both humans and werewolves alike as guests, it is by-far the most cautious one. The hotel was designed to have hallways and rooms that will allow humans and werewolves to freely roam and experience the luxury of the place without bumping unto each other.

After standing in front of the hotel for a full minute, a young man came rushing towards her, he seems nervous. She can tell, by how his eyes moved from one person to another. His hands too are shaking. Verra saw right through him, he is like her.

"Purely humans," she whispered, before gifting the young man a sweet smile.

The face before her suddenly lit up. Verra almost gave herself a pat on the shoulder, she was right. He is scared.

She held out her hand to the young man, who seems to be happy holding hands with her— and began walking towards the hotel's entrance. She looked back at her companions to make sure that none of them are slacking off, but as she did so—she saw something behind the molave tree, ten meters from where she stood. It is a black wolf.

Now, Verra fears the werewolves, but knowing that those creatures left their original form a long time ago, the animal standing behind the tree did not pose any threat to her safety, so she smiled at it.

It was a fleeting moment, but, did the animal frown at her? Are wolves even capable of doing so? The werewolves yes, but the animal? The unintelligent creature who unluckily remained in their primitive form, frowned?

I must be feeling tired, Verra thought to herself.

She pryed her gaze away from the animal and yelled at her men to move closer to her.

The group of men bobbed their head and immediately ran to her side. Verra smiled as the security she never want to lose enveloped her entire being, she took a deep breath, then headed inside the hotel.

***************************************

How long has it been since he left the confines of the mountain where she left him? How many years had passed since he watched how the victims of that faithful night turned into something more complex than what he is?

He cannot remember, he had lived for hundreds of years unable to die or age. He kept silent and watched in the sidelines. He remained unfazed, even when the war broke between the things he created and the humans whom she loved. He lost the will to care, a long time ago. But an hour earlier, he caught a familiar scent in the air, one that he can never forget. Despite the tears and years wearing him out, her scent is something that he will always remember.

Her scent which has been the fou dati on of their relationship, a sweet smell that mimicked that of a freshly bloomed rose. It drove him crazy, it made his heart pound. The scent was so strong, it felt like a parade of hooves are stomping on his chest, creating a rhythm that not only fried the veins of his heart but also sent the wires of his brain to send an electrical pulse all over his body. He shook and the dormant desire inside of him—a feeling which had long been forgotten, slowly came to life.

So, for the second time—after hu dreds of years in total isolation, he descended from the mountain and followed where the scent came from.

A woman, much to his dismay—carrying the same face as his beloved arrived in front of the grand Hotel. He kept his gaze on her, hiding behind a large tree. He never meant to stare but his presence was felt, by her!

He was astounded when she spotted him from across the road. How could she have felt his him? Not even the creatures that sprung from the one's he had bitten showed any sign of feeling his presence—but the woman did.

She smiled at him, how dare she use the same smile his beloved used to wear! She not only took her face and scent, she also robbed his beloved's smile, and what did she mean by purely humans? Did she not like his creation?

He cannot allow such an existence to remain int his world. She is an abomination! One that must not exist.