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A wolf in the frat - Epilogue

Written by Reaping

College would have been a great experience... if Michael could have made it. After being infected on the first day of classes, he felt like his life was over with all the things he got attached to in the past. Family, friends, belongings... everything was thrown off the window except from Jason. The roommate with whom he developed a close bond was there, still after all the corruption the transformation deflected onto his fragile mind. Even through the drastic physical transformation Michael had undergone, the musician had chosen him to share the rest of their irreversibly changed lives.

Sitting on the bed of their newly attributed room, Michael looked up at Jason, who stood no less than an impressive six-foot-nine bulky bearded teen. While he stood big and tall, the imposing man still depicted soft features of his previous self. The tenderness in his eyes and the coy smile were still the same. While much more muscled than Jason, Michael's human form was nothing to be shy about. As a strong and solid six-foot-eight height, the Physics student in fact looked meaner and scarier than his lover. Still, from the moment Jason played his love song on the instrument in the basement, the oppressing veil of the instinctive urges seemed to have diminished to the point he barely heard the Calling anymore.

"We should go." Michael's voice trailed off as he sat on the bed.

Jason, standing in the opposite side of the room, inspecting the new wardrobe of clothes Alphonse gifted them with, looked at him quizzically. Even though they now wore new clothes fitting their improved human bodies, the way these hugged Michael's bulging muscles reminded the musician of the time he joined the football team. While he felt free from the Calling's tremor, Jason couldn't help but feel the lust build within him when gazing at his lover.

"What do you mean?" The musician asked.

"We can't stay here. I don't want to disappear." Michael muttered, his eyes growing glassy.

Jason walked to him, sitting by his side on the bed, wrapping his lover's hands within his own.

"I'm still here with you. We'll get through this together."

"You haven't met Father yet... you don't know how he is. He's... he's just going to manipulate us, like he's done to all the others."

"What... did he do?" Jason asked, still in questioning about the Father the beasts kept talking about.

"You've heard it too, right, the Calling? Father started small with this town in the middle of nowhere... but what he wants is to have werewolves roam the Earth."

"Why?" The musician asked, taken aback by the naive audacity of this faceless person.

Michael was shivering, but not out of cold, more like he was frightened. His mouth felt dry. Sweat was starting to drip from his forehead.

"I've said too much already..."

"What is it, Michael?" Jason inquired, concerned by his lover's sudden behaviour.

"Father did not just create us. He can control us. He has power over our minds. Just like with the Calling. He..."

Michael plunged his head into his hands. Already, Jason could see his lover's facial hair growing thicker, his ears starting to point. The new clothes he was wearing were growing snug, his size increasing as the wolf was trying to get out. Bewildered, Jason could only witness his lover losing his humanity once again, turning into the werewolfish beast beneath. Seams of his shirts creaked around his swelling shoulders. The hem of his pants rose higher onto his increasingly hairy calves.

"Michael, stop!" Jason firmly ordered, putting both hands onto the shoulders of his distressed friend.

Suddenly, Michael's transformation came to a halt and so did their breath. The torment of the Calling went for crushing voices to silent whispers. The teen looked back into Jason's concerned eyes, which had left their human colour to turn golden for an instant.

"What's... going on?" Michael murmured, panting now. "Don't you... hear the Calling too?"

"The only thing I hear right now is your breath, Michael. What's going on?"

"Why... can't you hear the Calling anymore?"

"Is it... because I'm an alpha now?"

"No. You've made me an alpha too. Plus, Alphonse is an alpha and he still hears the Calling. Father can always... control us."

Jason let go of Michael's body. However, the instant his hands left his lover, the powerful howling of the Calling assailed the half-transformed werewolf, resuming his transformation. Through the large mansion, Jason heard growls and howls, splintering dishes and tearing clothes.

"What's... happening?" The musician muttered upon watching his friend dropping to all fours on the floor.

As Michael's body expanded and returned to its beastly appearance, Jason watched in lustful amazement the large split down the back of Michael's shirt enlarging, giving place to the black furred back.

"Fath... Father... stop..." Michael pleaded as his muzzle started to grow forward.

The tail pushed out above his asscheeks, the pants slipping down a little, giving Jason a view of his lover's swelling posterior. Maybe it was a consequence of talking behind the Father's voice, but Michael felt like his brain was dulling, clouding his thoughts to nothing but the imposing chant of the Calling and lust.

"Ugh... help me, Jason..."

"I... I don't know how!"

"Ughhh... fuck... fuck me!" Michael blurted out, pushing his ass out.

Jason blushed severely upon looking at the muscled ass pushing toward him, growing a thick carpet of black fur, the tail raised up high. Already, the large boner in his slacks had grown to make quite a bulge. Hurrying up like he feared Michael would run away, Jason pulled opened the crotch of his pants and aligned his human eleven incher, which was reddening and growing back to its beastly size and shape. Similarly to the human trekker in the woods earlier, the anal cavity felt tight but welcoming enough to fit all of the monstrosity of his penis like Drake's ass felt.

"Ugh... yeah, keep going..." Michael groaned, definitely not used to bottom, but doing it nonetheless.

Jason put his hands onto the bare furry hips of his lover to have a better grip on his changing lover, feeling himself starting to change. Nails grew into claws and fur soon covered Jason's larger hands. The pace of their love-making grew more rhythmic. Michael's whines vanished and gave place to loving moans, to which Jason happily harmonized his owns. Doing his best not to change all the way and thus break out of his new clothes, Jason couldn't help his private parts to change and grow all the way back. However, he proved to be enough in control not to grow the over-than-a-foot of height that separated him from his earlier beastly state. The beginning of a muzzle grew out before his eyes. Grey fur covered most of his body under the clothes and his muscles tried swelling up, but Jason managed to keep them from splitting the seams... although barely.

Once the orgasm hit them, both in unisson spilled their load. Jason's filled Michael's bowels while his lover's puddled on the wooden floorboards of their room. As the Physics student felt the warm gooey cum of his lover filling him, a sensation of warmth and tenderness overwhelmed him. The liquid fire shot within him basked the teen with comfort and joy, the seeds of love unable to leave him as the inflating knot at the base of Jason's cock kept them locked in, burrowed down the bottom's chute. Under an imaginary but unknown guitar melody, the tiring voices of the Calling ebbed down from a whisper to nothingness, completely freeing Michael from the nagging link the Father exerted on him.

The afterglow was brief as Jason forced his cock to revert back to its human self, thus removing the knot and untying them from each other.

"Did you hear that?" Michael pondered, recovering from the orgasm little by little.

"The melody, you mean?"

"Yeah..." The bottom moved away from Jason. As much as he tried to hear for the Calling, he didn't feel it... nor did he feel the oppression of the Father on his mind and body anymore. "The Calling... it's gone now..."

Michael's hulking wolf form slowly shrunk down as he reverted to his imposing human self. He pulled back the pants, hiding his half-hard dangling fat piece of meat.

"I believe... when you played this instrument, in the basement, you've grown... some kind of magic power, Jason." Michael muttered under the shocked look of his friend.

"You are right. We should leave this place." Jason approved Michael's earlier statement, his face dead serious.

The newly freed werewolf stood, making sure his clothes still fit him. After Jason's input on the shredded shirt, Michael put on an ample jacket from the peg by their new wardrobe to hide the immense tear down the back of his shirt. If the others beasts succumbed to the Father's warning and were all fucking lewdly in the mansion but them, maybe they'd have a chance of running away. Just as Michael witnessed his lover going for the door, he intercepted him.

"We don't have time, Michael, let's go." Jason sighed.

"Not before you kiss me." Michael said with a smug grin, eliciting a chuckle on the musician's somewhat serious temper.

"Last time you told me that, it didn't end well." Jason slyly replied.

"Ahh... hush up." Michael grabbed onto Jason's collar and pulled him for a deep, sensual loving kiss.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

With the trees growing more naked everyday, the pair of werewolves ran away toward the direction of the Calling with their fur soaked with water. The rain pouring off from the dark skies barely abated and was still going strong. Perhaps, they should just take shelter before deepening further in the forest.

Simply going past the incoming police forces proved to be a feat they were not prepared for. They barely managed to flee from the college grounds before any of the officers chased after them. During their escape, they were seen by quite a number of students, even the college security, who have gathered in curiosity around the room where the loud rut of beasts could be heard through the entire frat.

Now, they were free. Free from their college obligations, free from the human world, free of their lives. They lived to serve the nagging voice which had control over their mind like they had become gigantic overly sexual puppets.

With Leon on the lead, Eric followed suit as best as he could, his much heftier frame not fitted for running for so long. Needing to take a little rest, the fat werewolf asked his new lover to slow down so they could breath a little. Completely wet, Eric sat at the bottom of a large naked tree on a spongy moss bed. The tall lean beast turned around with a sly grin, watching his friend huffing, catching his breath.

"Aye! C'mon, Eric! We've gotta move on!" Leon teased, walking toward the sitting beast.

"Lemme rest a little, will you? I'm no runner like you!"

"A' know. Ah well, I guess a little break would be good, right, fatass?"

"Fuck you."

"Ya know..." Leon started with a playful tone, dropping to his knees in front of his lover. "If we stop here... it'd be a shame not to have some fun, right, matey?"

"I doubt that's gonna make us rest anyhow." Eric growled as Leon's clawed hand teasingly rubbed his tree trunk sized thigh toward his crotch.

Despite the statement, Eric did not push Leon away. His bright red erection popped out as the lustful ministration grew more and more erotic, closer to the swelling junk. The large pair of balls beneath Eric's growing pillar tensed closer to the body as Leon's gentle hand faintly brushed it. A groan escaped the receiver's newly grown muzzle as Leon's long and lithe furry fingers wrapped around the impossibly thick girth of his cock.

Eric let his arms drop lazily on the ground by his sides, his hands however gripping tight on the moss as he pushed his hips forward to give Leon a better grip. Soon, the chubby beast's hips moved like he was fucking the firm furry fist of his best pal, the fist of his lover. Leon brought his second hand to his growing wolfhood as well, masturbating himself to his buddy's pleasure. Leon was so into the whole pleasing process he failed to notice one of his friend's hand moving to his own prick and thus start a mutual masturbation. Leon happily whimpered at the loving act of his lover, and rewarded him with a loving kiss, muzzle to muzzle.

Kissing with the muzzles was still awkward, but the two rutting males were growing fond of the intimacy of it. With his new free hand, Leon put it on Eric's softer but bigger pectorals, slick with the fur drenched under the rain. Suddenly, Leon's foot slipped and he stumbled onto Eric, whom let go of pleasing the swollen red cock to catch him onto his bulky torso. Against the fat footballer, Leon sighed in comfort, the warmth radiating from the man keeping him warm despite the chilly rain pouring on them.

Some part of Leon's mind tried thinking about his family, of his previous life before his infection, but the Calling resurfaced onto his mind, blurring the lines of his past and making him unable to think about anything else than infecting others through his own pleasure, like he did with Eric, Corvus and even his coach. Yet, every time he infected someone new, his body rewarded him with the most blissful feeling in the world, even superior to an orgasm. Every time he witnessed a new human contracting lycanthropy, a happiness like nothing else filled him just like a father witnessing the birth of his child.

It was like he was creating his own family.

Suddenly, a noise in the distance brought the two beasts out of their blissful state. A grin stretched upon their lips as they anticipated the presence of a potential victim to infect.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The front doors of the mansion's Great Hall opened abruptly. A tall bearded man with large round glasses sitting atop his crooked nose entered the place followed by two newly transformed beasts drenched from the heavy rain pouring outside: Charles and Timothy. Inside the room, he found Alphonse and Benji still fucking right in the middle of the staircase. Visibly annoyed, the man made a gesture and the two rutting beasts stopped fucking for a second like they just realized what was going on. With a surprised cry, Benji realized the presence of the mansion grounds' landlord and eased himself off from Alphonse's pulsing cock.

"Oh... Good evening, Father. I'm... We're sorry. We just..."

"Cut the crap, Benji." The man in a dark suit sighed, shaking his head. "Get those two something to eat and join us in the ceremony room downstairs."

"Yes, Father."

"As for you, Alphonse... tell me. Where... are... they?!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jason and Michael! Where are they?!"

"I... I don't know, Father! Why are you asking me? Can't you know where..."

"If I'm asking you, it's because I can't know where they are! Ugh! Never mind. Come along."

With his fast gait, Father guided the new werewolves through the gigantic mansion. At one point, as he walked past a window and saw the thunder roaring through the sky, he stopped walking as if he grew taken by the scenery of the storm. Shaking his head, Father resumed his walk for the library, then the secret passage leading down to the basement. The room was empty of people for the welcoming of the new werewolves, but that didn't matter to him. There was only Alphonse by his side and that was all he needed. Slowly, Father walked toward the pedestal onto which the guitar rested peacefully. For the first time, Alphonse watched him take the object off from the pedestal, carefully as if he did not want to damage the ancient artefact.

"Have I already told you whose this was?" He said calmly.

"I believe you mentioned it was from a shepherd who played you some, am I right?"

"Yes. Very... very... very long ago."

The tall man in a suit gently rubbed the strings, a lucid but nostalgic smile stretching on his lips.

"The Shepherd... His father was German and his mother was Italian. Two musicians who wanted their son to take on after them and become a music virtuoso... but he didn't want to play for the grandiose music rooms or to play for the bourgeois people. He grew sick of playing for the high-class people and ran away from this forced duty."

Father turned around to Alphonse, the two werewolves behind him already fucking again. However, Father's closest subject stood there listening to him respectfully.

"He travelled all across Europe, living the life of a poor man, sleeping on villagers' couches and fed in exchange of a few songs and a bit of help on the fields. The life was simple, it was all he needed. He was happy as is. It's in Spain where he found love. Not a person to love, but a life to love. He helped an old man who couldn't take care of his herd. This old man died a few years later and his apprentice became the new shepherd. However, with little to no experience, he lived through many hardships. Every now and then, a sheep or two would be missing, prey to the hungry wolves in the region."

A malicious snide stretched on the Father's lips.

"That's when he asked for my help. If he had known better back then, the wolves eating his flock were actually werewolves. Real werewolves. I was no more but a figure, an idol, if you may, by an altar at the edge of the field and the forest. Staying still, waiting for people to come to me and asking requests. Someday, he came to me. He prayed to me, begged me to keep his flocks from being eaten by the wolves. He even played music to me. A very sweet man... and I gave him his wish."

Father's gaze left the instrument in his hands and went for Alphonse.

"I made him a werewolf. Simple as that. No other wolf but himself ate its way through the entire flock. I was surprised to see him at my feet again. He came back, half-man half-beast, shaking but not saying anything. He just stayed there and asked what I did to him. You see, I didn't intend on talking to a mortal or anything... but, again, he played music to me again."

With a poor attempt, Father tried mimicking the once musician but laughed and stopped.

"I don't know if it was his charisma or if he had magic, yet I couldn't help but feed on his music and prayers. There he stayed and played music for five days. When the music stopped, I thought he had died of exasperation, but he hadn't. He was there, still breathing but too weak to play. He spent all day looking at me and yet I didn't do anything."

"He spent his sixth day telling me about his life, his travels, how he's never felt truly happy before he became a shepherd... and that I supposedly took away his happiness. For the first time in an eternity or two, I talked to a mortal. I told him that I didn't care for anyone's happiness but that I care only to grant their prayers. You see, where I come from, emotions don't exist so I couldn't possibly understand and fulfill a request asking for happiness."

"He died before me... but his death did something to me. Somehow, I had grown fond of him, even for this short period of time spent together. I kept his guitar as a memento... but I think it's time I do like my patients... and move on."

Firmly, Father held onto the guitar fingerboard... and smashed the instrument on ground. The loud noise of wood breaking alerted the rutting pair of werewolves. Alphonse stayed there with a saddened passivity upon watching his creator destroying the very object he always held onto since he's known him.

"After all... I still have this other memento from him." Father monologued to his closest man, with such serenity it contrasted like black and white from the destructive behaviour he showed a few seconds prior. "I have never known his name. I simply called him the Shepherd... and you know, more than no one else, Alphonse, that I go by the name of Schäfer. This name means Shepherd in the native language of that man, in German. I shall never forget him for as long as I keep this name."

Alphonse nodded. Schäfer dropped what was left of the broken instrument on the ground. He approached the two rutting beasts. In opposite to Michael and Jason, Charles and Timothy were still under his influence, their mental link with him still strong. The moment he felt Jason play the guitar, the melodies of his long dead admirer resurfaced on his mind and weakened the Father's influence on the werewolf. While he could still feel his bond with the other beasts, he felt this bond weaken and dissipate with Michael right after when he caught the werewolf chat behind his back.

Schäfer watched the two males screwing before his eyes boringly. From where he came from, no pleasure nor emotions existed but profound nothingness. Others like him, people with the ability to grant wishes and to fulfill prayers, were dreary and bleak, with no goal whatsoever but to watch the repercussion of the granted requests unfold before their eyes. No immortal but no mortal either, Schäfer felt his first emotion the day the Shepherd died before him. Five days he spent playing music, each day passing through one of the stages of grief, then, on the sixth day as he told him his story, he ended up with a question that still stuck to Schäfer's mind to this very day.

"People come to seek help from you. Praying, wishing... but, given the chance, what would an idol like you wish for, if it could ask for anything?" The Shepherd had asked him in German a few instants before he died.

"All I felt since the beginnings of my creation was the admiration of people... of werewolves, particularly since I did share the figure of their beliefs. Yet when humans chased and executed them in the Middle Ages, I was left alone, abandoned... buried under the rubbles and landscape by humankind who took all I had."

The Father looked at Alphonse with a tender smile.

"That's when you found me, Alphonse. Centuries trapped under the earth and rock, you freed me from my forced slumber and selflessly helped me out. You've never turned against me like your ancestors did. You even offered to help me with recreating the species I once loved by being my first subject."

Schäfer looked once more at the two rutting beasts. While being a very messy vector to transmit the lycanthropy gene he created, he found it to be quite handy to manipulate the infected by giving them an exaggerated sex-drive and outrageous sexual organs. After all, if was much easier to grab a man by the balls to do whatever he wanted, thus why he 'gifted' them with an undying libido.

"Leon and Eric should be here tonight too."

"What about Michael and Jason?" Alphonse asked.

The Father let out a long sigh, closed his eyes, then shrugged.

"It's not that big of an issue, come to think about it."

"How come?"

"Even if I can't force the Calling onto them anymore, they are still subject to the hormones of their new selves... and thus I am certain they will, eventually, infect other people without being subjugated by the Calling."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tightly wrapped in a warm blanket, Kevin stayed immobile by the ambulance with a paramedic, gazing into nothingness. The horrifying events of the night replayed before him. Shivers ran down his spine as he reimagined the horrifying beast Tim had become. The monster who raped their fellow fraternity brother without an ounce of pity. How his girlfriend Michelle had tried preventing him from going back to his room. Was that the same beast that had made an apparition at The Danceclub a few weeks ago? Back then, that thing didn't attack or raped anyone... except maybe from Michael in the bathroom, now that he remembered his High School friend drenched with cum.

Kevin jumped with a scare as a man tried pulling him out of his thoughts. The student shifted his eyes slowly toward the man and he recognized the old grumpy cop with the thick walrus mustache. He also remembered how they didn't get along for the brief time they've been together, but, differences aside, Kevin felt like he needed to compel.

"You, alright, buddy?" The old man asked him, concerned.

At loss for words, his throat feeling like it was knotted after the shattering events he witnessed, Kevin simply nodded. With a sigh, the older man joined the teen and sat by his side on the edge of the ambulance.

"You're lucky to have fled those things. Better than we were at catching them." He added with a cheering smirk that was barely perceptible under the thick facial hair.

"My friends... they're all gone..." Kevin said, grim.

The chief officer fatherly rubbed the gloomy student's shoulder briefly before his cellphone rang loudly and forced him to walk away from the witness.

"Terrence Dial, speak."

The student listened to the man giving a few short replies with a straight face and a sharply dull pitch.

"Yeah, I'm with the witness. No, he looks fine. No injury, no trace of sexual assault. Yeah, a few splotches on his clothes. Yeah, they're already in the bag. No... what are you talking about? Charles'... what...? Wait, I'll call him."

Terrence dismissed the call and tried making a call under Kevin's tardy gaze. The person the chief office so desperately tried contacting didn't seem to answer his level of stress only seemed to increase along with concern. Reaching the voicemail for the third time, the panicking man suddenly turned toward the sitting student and walked to him.

"Ugh... I'm sorry, but... ugh... could you help me out with my phone? Still... huh... getting used to them." Terrence foolishly confessed. "Usually I ask my partner to help me out with this sort of thing, but... whatever, could you just send a message to someone for me? His name is Charles McCoy."

Kevin's heart skipped a beat. The short man looked up into the eyes of the concerned officer.

"Charles... he's the one... who saved me..." Kevin muttered.

Terrence's eyebrows frowned. Charles was supposed to be at home, but the call he just received from Elizabeth informed him that her pupil Katia had just found Charles' personal gun and shreds of a torn cop uniform in the second confined fraternity.

"No! That can't be! Charles is supposed to be home!" Terrence denied, his whole body shaking at the thought of losing his much younger partner to these monsters.

With Terrence's phone in his hands, Kevin looked in his contacts and realized that there was an unread message from Charles.

"Huh... sir... ya got an unread message from him."

"What now? Show me."

Just as he pressed the notification icon, an email opened up and Kevin all but frown upon reading the very short message he managed to read before the older man snatched the phone from his hands. Right there, black on white, he read the four critical words that stabbed him in the stomach, each one hitting harder than the previous.

"I contracted the virus."

Terrence reread the sentence a few times, still in complete denial, before dropping his arm and lifting his head upward, gazing at the cloudy sky, thunder still roaring despite the short break of rain. Letting out a deep sigh, the old officer felt compelled to call back Elizabeth, but he back next to Kevin instead. They stayed there next to each other for a moment before the officer spoke.

"Charles' gone too... What the fuck is going on? And how did I not see this one coming? Michael Singleton... Leon Lester... I saw both of these coming... but I missed Charles', right under my nose..."

The man shook his head and swore under his breath, guilty not to have noticed anything before... even though maybe Charles had only contracted the virus on his day off. Still, what would Charles be doing here where he was supposed to be off duty.

"It's my fault, officer..." Kevin confessed. "Was frien' with him and I'm the one who's call him when I was hidin' from tha' monster..."

"You're one of his friends?"

"Kinda... I thought of gettin' in the police and he was s'pposed to gimme a few hints in college."

"Well... first, you'd need to work on your diction if you want to make it in the police, young man." Terrence said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Imma work on it."

Terrence gave him a desperate smile, doing his best not to let out a sigh.

"So I take it you're a law-school student?"

"Not yet, I'm in Informatics right now but I planed on switching next year. I'd love to work in the cyber department."

"Great, I'm not good with the informatics anyway."

"Why you askin'?"

"There are many things we have yet to figure out of this whole mess... but something tells me that the core of this disaster rests here at this college. I'm going to need a new partner for that case, especially on the inside of the campus. Someone who can blend in with the students. Someone who can blend within the frats, the classes and the establishment."

Kevin's eyes gleamed for a moment in admiration for the cop. As a nearby car ignited and illuminated them both, Kevin's light brown eyes seemingly glowed yellow for an instant, taking Terrence aback shortly, but he blamed the optical illusion on the car lights.

"Can't be sure yet if I can make it happen... but if it works, would you want an internship?"

THE END

...maybe?