Rufus crouched in the tiny opening in the forest, rain splattered on his heated dark brown skin mingling in the dirt and gore mixed in his black wavy hair. The pain of the shift still resounding through his human body and joints. His fingernails dug into the damp soil throwing up the deep scent of black soil and last of his prey. His dark pupils were dimly illuminated with a silver tint reflecting the full moon hidden behind the gray clouds. He took a deep breath a hand slipped over his chest smearing the splatters of blood. The male body twisted and torn lay nearby, throat and belly torn open huge chunks removed from the shoulders and back. 

The memory of the hunt and thrill of the kill caused bones to shift under his taunt skin. Rufus slammed that desire and let out a breath, he ran his tongue over his teeth relishing the coppery taste of the bite that had torn the other’s throat open. His stomach rumbled with the unending want for food. The changing process took up much energy like running a marathon with a pack of bricks on his back. This time, he had forced the change. He had overcome the sway of the moons power returned to his human form. Each time he forced himself to do it became easier. It was close enough to morning that they wouldn't know the difference. He snorted softly. Fools.

The smell of heated oil, grease and Major Henderson rolled over him before he could hear the jeeps engine or the creak of the suspension. Rufus turned toward the bouncing headlights, the Major was following the GPS embedded in his shoulder. Everyone that came to the camp was equipped with one, the government had to keep an eye on their projects. 

The vehicle skidded to a stop, the major stood up holding on the roll cage. Behind him a solider trained an automatic weapon upon him. “The new batch is arriving,” he said with a snort. 

Rufus turned in the direction of the camp, a soft growl vibrating out of him. Hopefully, this new group will prove more useful than the last bunch of harebrained idiots who couldn’t sniff their way out of a paper bag. The push for more lycan warriors was getting messy and the shareholders were getting antsy. The perfect mind had to accept the change, they had to find that balance between animal and human. The rich didn't understand the struggle, the endless clawing need to hunt and kill or the rage that continually boiled inside. 

A pair of pants was thrown at him tearing him out of his destructive thoughts. Rufus scooped the garment off the ground and pulled them on. Time to play human for a little while. He climbed in the back seat, the driver found the GPS tracker in a chunk of meat laying a few feet away and retrieved the device.
 
“Poor fool,” the major snorted. “I bet he never knew what hit him. Why can’t we get more like you?”

Rufus blinked his strange eyes he grinned wickedly showing off the slight points of his upper four canine teeth. He had been a man who had lost everything, his job, his home and his lover all in the matter of two weeks. He had been approached after a bar fight he had started. Instead of abducting the test subject, the major offered Rufus a different direction in life. 

Rufus had merged, fully embraced what he had become. It made him dangerous. Even more than the project heads knew. After five years, Rufus barely remembered the human world. He scratched the cloth against this thigh, he hated clothing. 

The major sat down and the driver ground the gears until he forced the transmission into first. The old army jeep tore toward the camp and the group of infected people that would be waking soon behind very tall fences. The serum would take most of the day to fully incubate. 

The night will show if they were mice or wolves.