At first, he wasn’t sure if he had killed the middle school kids or not. He knew he’d killed those two adults, who were the parents of something that smelled like him. He wondered if the other one had killed the kids. Or maybe he had done it, and had just forgotten. It happened. It would help if he could recall why he killed the parents, but as he sat at his desk, looking out the window that overlooked the woods, he realized he didn’t care. They were dead. The kids were dead. He was alive.

But the other thing that smelled like him was still out there. Not thing, but werewolf.

This, he could not have.

Mainly why he had killed the parents.

So he did remember.

Nodding, he leaned back in his chair. Another werewolf. Another killer. The potential of their meeting was monumentous.

*     *     *

Joshua had discovered there wasn’t much he could do.

He would shift, and wake up back here in the forest tasting like blood no matter what he did. He thought he could learn to control himself, but considering the vast difference between he and the beast he became, he didn’t think control was possible. How a thirteen year old went from being a normal teen to a ravenous beast was beyond him, but he didn’t like it, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. He was destined to kill.

To seek out a challenge worthy of his claws, of his time. To seek the ultimate fight. He would risk his life to find it. Or the thing he became would. He didn’t want associate himself with the werewolf. He truly became another person when he was the werewolf.

It controlled him, gripped him and changed him unbidden. Perhaps it was another being, another entity that had possessed him. He had once been a skeptic, but the last few days had killed all of that. If he was a werewolf, who knew what else could happen?

Josh lay on his side, crying. Crying for his lost life, his parents, everything. He was only a thirteen year old kid, how was he supposed to come to terms with this? On the other hand, he wasn’t so sure he could come to terms with it. But he wasn’t going to let himself continue to change and kill. He was determined to at least get some form of control over it. He just had no idea where to begin.

The other werewolf, or whatever had killed his parents, came to his mind. If he could find it (she, him, whoever), then they would be able to teach him how to handle himself. Well, that was only if the other werewolf wasn’t in the same situation Josh was in. Judging by the killing of his parents, Josh had a feeling the other werewolf might have been looking for him, and had killed his parents as a warning. In that case, Josh was alone in this.

Josh rolled onto his back, staring up at the night sky. The changes came with little warning, and even though he knew he was changing, he couldn’t stop it. He wished he knew what to do, but he felt so alone, so lost and without control of his life. Even if he learned how to control himself, he wondered if he could ever maintain a normal life, or learn to not be murderous in his other form. Right now, though, both of those things seemed impossible.

Josh thought for a while. He wasn’t sure how long, but eventually he got up because of hunger. Even though his werewolf form liked to kill, he didn’t eat what he killed (thankfully, Josh couldn’t imagine waking up to know he had killed and eaten people). This left Josh realizing he was pretty hungry.

But what was there to eat in the forest? If he went back home, he just knew something bad was going to happen, plus by now it was likely the police were in control of his house or something. He figured his best bet was to unfortunately stay out here, but he didn’t know how to survive in the woods, or what to eat.

Whimpering, Josh looked out at the dark woods, not in the least wondering why his vision was so good in the darkness where humans would see nothing but a wall of darkness. Hanging his head, he made his way off into the forest, not knowing what he would find.

*     *     *

He stepped out into the darkness, moving into town swiftly. On all fours, he tried to pose as a large dog, but hopefully in the night, no one would really take notice of him. Even if someone did see him, he didn’t care. Long ago he quit killing those who posed no challenge. Right now, all he wanted was to pick up the scent of the other werewolf, who he knew was considerably younger than him, but he didn’t care.

A werewolf was a werewolf.

He who sought a challenge would eventually find another who sought the same thing.

They would inevitably meet, and the fight they had been waiting for would begin.

Once he passed by the house of the dead parents, he caught the scent. He lifted his head, scanning for humans, but saw none. Perhaps everyone had been scared inside because of the killings, or there was a curfew now. He didn’t care. He lowered his head and began to run towards the forest, hope beating in his mind for a fight finally worthy of his claws.

*     *     *

Josh tripped and fell with a splash. Groaning, he stood up, ignoring the wet underneath his feet, clinging to his clothes. He’d been lucky enough to snag a fish with his hands, and he wasn’t letting it go. He could cook it up, at least, if he could remember how to. But right now, his mind was a mass of hunger and something else…worry, it felt like, apprehension, but he’d been feeling this practically since he had killed the kids the other day, and it hadn’t stopped. This new worry thought felt more like a warning, like he knew something was going to happen, and he knew what it was, unlike the speculations he had been wondering about if someone found out he was a werewolf.

He froze as a howl sliced the air, something low and calling him to fight. At first, he didn’t know this, but the beast within him rose, and Josh found himself growling a threat back to the howler. He straightened up, dropping the fish, his sharp eyesight piercing the night. Another thing he was curious about: how come he could see so well and he wasn’t in wolf form?

The howl came again, and Joshua let out a roar not meant to come from his young throat. He winced at it, trying to keep himself from changing, but like the previous times, he knew it wasn’t going to work. He trudged from the stream, ears picking up the sound of something running towards him. But now, he couldn’t look for it, couldn’t connect it to anything.

Once again, he was shifting against his will.

*     *     *

It was only customary of him to howl his challenge. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. He never was. All he wanted now was the kill, and he was going to get it, he was going to get it soon, right now, and there was nothing that was going to stop him.

His legs flew underneath him, and he was blur. Not that anyone was out there to witness such a thing, but the observation still hit his mind. But he didn’t care. He just hoped the other werewolf had heard his call, because it wouldn’t do any good if he went hunting and his prey wasn’t ready.

The other werewolf was up ahead, by the stream that was filled with the sound of splashing and low growls. The other werewolf was changing, but he would stop that.

The younger werewolf looked up in surprise when he burst through the trees, forearms stretched out, long claws shining in the night. The two collided, and they hit the ground, rolling out of the stream and onto dry ground.

And suddenly, there was nothing but ravaging hunger burning in both of them.