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                As luck

would have it, there was a full moon within three days time. Several things transpired

leading up to that day. First, I actually saw Reynaud and Lupenia transform

into full werewolf form. Despite their age, they still looked pretty damn

impressive. Verona and Maggie joined them, and my hotel suite was suddenly the

setting for an impromptu werewolf movie. My camera stayed in its case.                Verona'

scent was making my nose water, and that was on the mild end of the problems it

was causing me. I blamed it on flowers and allergies. I doubt anyone bought the

excuse, but they were kind enough to not remark on it. There was debate on

whether or not to remove the coin from my hip, to see what would happen.

Reynaud was torn.                "Son, I

don't know what would be better; doing it now when we might have some chance of

containing you, or out in the park, where you can run free if the

transformation grips you in its madness."                "I say

leave it. You may need me in berserker mode."                "Don't

say that son. It's not funny."                "I

wasn't trying to be funny."                "Good,

because you have no idea what you're saying."                I shut

up. Up to this point all my interactions with werewolves had been survivable,

and therefore anti-climatic. Now we were getting into the stuff movies were

made from. It hadn't really sunk into my psyche yet. You can excuse me for my

lackadaisical attitude though. Two of the four in the room had been bed

partners of mine. It was hard to think ill of ladies you had known in "that way".                On the

night of the full moon, we gathered for our final showdown. I fiddled with my

knives, debating on taking matters into my own hands. Reynaud threatened to

take them away from me if I didn't stop poking around my hip.                Maggie

came to my rescue, turning feral and growling at him. He was, of course,

unimpressed by her display and rubbed her head. "Child, I admire your courage,

but you have nothing to fear from me. Save it for later for then we will have a

bigger Fish to fry."                 She

reverted to normal herself, and taking my knives in hand  she got dressed and headed out.                "Maggie,

where are you going?"                               "I need

a walk."                "With

my knives?"                She

handed them back to me. "I suppose I can always change if I'm attacked." I

waved her away.                "Take

them, but hurry back."                She did.

She had a bouquet of those lovely purple flowers, which I can only imagine she

absconded from the gardens across the street. I shook my head and scolded her.

"We have plenty of money dear, thanks to you. You don't need to go stealing

them from the public."                She

smiled. "I like what I like. And this may be my last day alive. Would you deny

me anything I want or need under such circumstances?"                She

knew I couldn't. "No dear. I'm sure they won't be missed."                Everyone

put on clothing that they didn't mind losing during the transformation, because

it was hardly advisable for an entire group of naked people to go walking in

the park after dark. There was no danger other than the obvious one. It was

just advisable to avoid the unwanted attention it would draw. Me, I was playing

it as safe as I could and had bought a two piece leather motorcycling outfit.

Reynaud told me it might hold up for about ten seconds more than the skin

underneath, but to me it was better than nothing. Finding Mr. Fish was not difficult. He was

standing on the top of the tower at Belvedere Castle. "So you have come. Good.

You see, either way I win this game. "                It was

pretty spooky seeing him there, with the bright full moon shining from behind

his back. Maggie obviously thought so too because I heard the click of her

camera phone. I was surprised she had brought it. Kids!                 From

here on out, I'm afraid that I must give up my viewpoint of this epic battle,

largely because I will only be seeing it through my single pair of eyes. That

will be insufficient to give you a well rounded experience. So I now bow out,

and will allow you a better look at the situation.                Albert

Fish had waited in the park each night since posing his ultimatum. He had the

feeling that they would chose tonight, when their power would be at its

greatest. However, his would be to, so they were fools to think it held any

advantage to them.                 When

they arrived, he forced a smile. They were such a ragtag lot; an immature freak

of a girl, her human pet, and three from a single family. He made his choices

as to whom to kill first, and went into a crouch. "Tua voluntas

mea sit mors!"                He

hit the ground with a sickly thud. He sniffed towards the human, for the others had

already changed into their feral forms. This human had a stink to him, probably

from the silly leather clothing he had on. He, Albert Fish, would shred that in

seconds, should he be of a mind to. Then he stopped.                A

flower? The stupid man wore a corsage to a fight! He focused on it. Damn that

human! No one upstaged Albert Fish! With a howl, the old murderer leaped from

the parapet and ran towards the man, his fingers and nails growing in the

moonlight. The rage had taken a hold of him.                Edward

stood his ground, holding his knives in two leather-gloved hands. He looked

sort of bad-ass in his gear, but not nearly as bad-ass as the other members of

his group. And he knew he didn't stand a chance of doing any real damage on

this guy. His knives would probably do nothing at all. But he intended to stand

his ground.                Maggie

came out of nowhere and dived on Albert's back, digging in her claws,

distracting him for a moment. This enraged him even more, and he bent an arm

back at an impossible angle to grab her and yank her off. She flew through the

air but landed on her feet just shy of the pond.                Taking

the momentary distraction as a sign, Edward lunged forward, sinking both blades

into his opponent.  Albert turned and

grabbed him by the throat. "You insignificant piece of pitiful human trash.

Your knives are no match for me!" In the next instant he flung him thirty feet

to land with a sickening thud against the castle wall. In the process, one

knife remained embedded in his chest. He pulled it out and dropped it on the

ground.                "Who's

next?"                Maggie

came out of the shadows like a wild cat and clawed at him like a weed whip, her

front paws going so fast they were a blur.                 "Cur!"

He screamed, bending his arm at that sickeningly acute angle again. He held her

at arm's length. Wiry hair was starting to sprout from his morphing appendages.

"Little girl, I have played with children much younger than yourself. Their

screams were music to my ears. Shall I have you sing me a song of... Bastard!"                Reynaud

had dived in on top of him, bearing him to the ground, and allowing Maggie to

get free. Reynaud went for a killing clamp on his neck, but was thwarted by a

huge gnarly paw against his own throat.                 "You

old fool! Did you think this would be as easy as hunting prey?" As he talked,

Mr. Fish's voice was getting lower and deeper and much more menacing. His arms

were growing ever longer and thicker, until they looked like frayed hemp rope.

His paws mimicked leaf rakes with broke tines, and his head was turning into a

grotesque persona of a werewolf. Call it an ogre head covered in wolf fur.                All of

a sudden, another form landed on his back, and he lashed out wildly. Lupenia had

landed, taken a bite and launched herself off again. Reynaud then lashed out

with his back feet and kicked him in the balls. Albert let out a glass

shattering howl that reverberated throughout the park and echoed off of the

surrounding skyscrapers.                "You

little bastard! You and your bitch will fertilize the soil here as miniscule

fragments!"                He

lunged to the side, only to be intercepted by Verona, who, taking advantage of

her situation, merely rubbed herself all over him before bounding off into the

darkness. Albert clawed at his nose. "Bitch!" His scream was now high pitched

and totally mad.                To this

point his transformation had been limited to his chest upwards to his head. But

her scent was driving the transformation the rest of the way. And where it

encountered silver, it paused. His abdomen boiled in frustration as the

collection of silver needles halted the transformation process. Her aroma was

driving it on like a stampede of buffalo..                 His

keening screams literally turned the water in the pond to ice. He began clawing

at his belly, and taking this distraction to heart, Maggie pounced once more

and clawed him until he grabbed for her again. This time she was too quick and

leaped to safety.                Albert

clawed at his belly, coming away with a single needle. And then another, and

another and another. No one could count the number for certain, but he finally

transformed completely. He was a good seven feet tall, and his black fur was

shot through with gray and white. His eyes were glowing orbs of fire, and his

voice was barely discernible.                "See

what you have unleashed?"                With a

roar he lunged forward, snatching Reynaud and his wife off the ground and launching

them into the air. The two weren't amateurs and hung on to each other. As they

began their descent, they pushed off of each other and ended up landing a good

twenty feet away from the netherwalker's position. It wasn't much distance, but

the demon werewolf had intended to impale them on his claws. He was angry that

his plan had not worked.                He

launched himself into another attack, but was foiled when Verona charged out

from the side. She jumped at his face, and rolling in mid air, sprayed him with

urine. In the next instant she had bounded off again.                Fish

clawed his face. "Bitch! Do you think I care for your cunt?" But despite his

words, her pheromones were sending shivers through his form. What his mind

wanted was not the same thing his body wanted. He clawed at his face as Maggie

came in again; she dashed under him, grabbed the knife and stabbed him in the

balls before extracting it and retreating.                His

roar of pure rage was awful to hear. He went totally mad. His nose was now

useless, but his vision more than made up for the loss. Everything he saw was

in infrared, and the moving shapes had nowhere to hide. He assessed the

situation. The human was lying motionless against the base of the castle, and

his little were-girl was back at his side. How pathetic, he thought. To moon

over such a weak little thing as that.                 He

turned his gaze, spotting the one in heat. He would have to kill her quickly,

before she interfered any more with his senses. As it was, he had the urge to

mate, a totally disgusting feeling. Death was the only thing that brought joy!                The old

pair of weres were pacing around him at a distance, treating him as a worthy

adversary. At least there was someone here who might prove to have enough fight

to make battle interesting. All of this subterfuge and sneaky guerilla tactics

were trying his patience.                 Before

he could make an attack, that little were-girl came out of the dark, from his

back side. He heard her a second too late as she landed again and bit his neck.

The one in heat charged him and managed to spray him again. This time she got

his eyes. He jerked to the side and propelled himself into the pond.                When he

came out, he was dripping wet and covered with green slime. But his eyes were washed

clean and his nose was flushed. "To hell with you, you damn little bitches.

I'll deal with you first."                That

was when he heard the voice. It was weak and wavering, but it was obviously the

human male. He turned to glare at it; that sorry excuse for a living creature.

His eyes saw no color except for red, but it was enough. He could reach him in

a mere second and finish him off for good, before tearing these others from

limb to limb. He hesitated. The voice held just a hint of power.                "So Mr.

Fish. I have something for you." The human tossed something the netherwalker's

way. It hit the dirt and rolled a few inches before stopping. Albert was barely

able to pick it up out of the dirt it was so small, almost like his needles had

been. He held it in the tips of his nails and fought to focus his vision on it.

It appeared to be some sort of coin. He dropped it back in the dirt.                "Puny

human! That old piece of silver means nothing to me!"                "I

know. But it means a lot to me. My grandfather gave me that, and I have had it

with me ever since. Today is the first I have parted with it, and that's

because losing my lucky dime means your luck has run out.                "Luck?"

roared the netherwalker. "Luck is superstition my little morsel."                "So are

werewolves, yet here we are."                "We?

You dare say we? You are nothing more than a sad little man and it will be my

pleasure to tear your flesh from your bones!"                Maggie

came and stood in front of Edward. "Over my dead body!"                "Oh

little one, of course it will be over your dead body."                Verona

came up and took a similar stance. Albert eyed her cautiously and then checked

his periphery, fearing another attack by the older two. He was growing tired of

this constant badgering.  He returned his

gaze back to her. "I will tear you from the inside out bitch. I shall remove

your womb and eat it before you die, to show you that you do not mess with me!"

He could smell her aroma and he drove the sensation down into his black heart

to be consumed by his hatred and madness.                Edward

stepped closer, standing in a patch of moonlight. "Albert Fish. You are many

things, but the greatest of those is a fool."                "Fool

am I?" He roared. "I'll show you who the fool is!" He rushed forward and swiped

at anyone in reach. His paw hit a stone wall. It was Edward's hand. It didn't

even budge.                The

human glared at him for a moment. Then his eyes went red. "Let's dance."                In the

next instant, Albert Fish, netherwalker and ancient werewolf extraordinaire,

smashed into Belvedere Castle, cracking the stone work that had stood for

nearly as long as he had been alive. He shook his head and raged back into the

open. The human was still there, only he wasn't the same. His eyes were like

lava pits, and he was growing. The hair sprouting from his body was as black as

night, struck through with blood red. His face elongated, and teeth the size

and shape of daggers grew like cave formations from his jaw and the roof of his

mouth.                His

claws were growing into ebony knives, six, then seven, then eight inches long.

His body was rippling like it had a mass of worms under the skin. The muscle

underneath grew and grew and grew, until this former human was the same mass as

Albert. The only defect to his form was the blood running down from one hip,

but even that was healing up fast. And then there was his voice.                "You

have nothing to live for Albert Fish. I on the other hand have much to live

for. So I'd say that that makes me the winner already and far more dangerous

than you. Still care to make this difficult?" The sound emanating from his

throat boomed out like the pipes of a church organ.                Edward

seemed in his right mind for the moment. Albert was not and had not been for

decades. "Live? Die? Who cares? I will expend every last drop of my life's

blood to see your remains splattered across this park."                Verona

and Maggie were still standing there, partially in awe of the were-male that

had taken Edward's place. "Get back!" He ordered.                Maggie

was defiant. "No!"                "Little

one, I have no time for this. You have done well, and you have done as much as

you could be expected to do. From now on this is a one on one battle. If he

wins, then you'll have your chance again. So if I die, make me proud."                She

jumped up and gave him a lick. "If you die, I'll have no reason to live. So I

will die trying, if I succeed or not."                "ENOUGH!"

roared the netherwalker. "Your emotional niceties have no place here!"                Edward

flexed his body. He grabbed Verona and sniffed deeply of her scent. She applied

herself to generating more if it. He gave her a kiss. "Now go. This will not be

pretty."                The

netherwalker cracked his neck and then spoke. "Pretty? No, this will not be

pretty. But I must ask. What are you? You showed no signs before that you were anything

more than human."                "I

don't know what I am on the outside. I know what I am on the inside. If you

wish for information to take to your grave, know that my ancestors originated

from Gévaudan."                It was

the first time that fear had come to Mr. Fish's eyes in a very long time. "Gévaudan?

But the bloodline of the Beast was destroyed!"                "I very

much doubt it, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here. My grandparents came over

a long time ago."                "So be

it then. The time has come for one of us to die." Albert sprung forward and was

deflected back into the pond. He sailed fifty feet into the air before making

one hell of a splash. But a new problem had arisen. The cacophony and caterwauling

was attracting all sorts of gawkers, and in the clear moonlight, the events

were quite visible. This fact was not lost on the netherwalker. He bounded to

several bystanders and picking them up, hurling them towards Edward. He in turn

jumped and snatched them out of the air, setting them on the ground. Their

screams added to the mayhem.                "None

of that!" he roared, chasing after the villainous Fish. Albert for his part was

galloping across the park towards the city-proper. He had claimed that he didn't

fear death, but he did fear anything to do with the mythical Beast. Those other

weres were fools to think that partnering with this descendent of the

milk-mother was going to do them any good. Even a crazy man knew when to call

it quits.                The

netherwalker sprang onto the Seventy Ninth Street Transverse and ran towards

Fifth Avenue. Cars screeched to a halt, and in some cases, his mass crushed the

roofs on top of the drivers as he used them to springboard his way up the

street. There was soon a trail of wreckage up and down the thoroughfare.                Edward

was running full out to catch him. His quarry turned north on Fifth Avenue,

taking them past the Metropolitan Museum. On and on they went, traveling along

the ground, disrupting traffic and causing havoc with each passing mile. Finally,

the netherwalker jumped skyward, latching onto a building and scrambling up to

the top. Chunks of masonry fell down like hailstones.                 He

stopped at the top and waited for his nemesis. Edward was on the roof within

seconds. "Have you finally given up?"                The

netherwalker was gasping for air. "I'm not what I was once was, that's a solid

fact. But then, I have never had such a reason to run as I have tonight."                "You

may run as far as you wish old-timer, but I will always be right behind you,

hounding your heels and chasing your tail. Why not just end this?"                He just

stood his ground, gasping and wheezing. "I don't understand it. Why am I

suddenly out of breath?"                A

female voice carried over the roof. "Because, you sick son of a bitch, I

poisoned you." It was Maggie. She was holding a purple flower.                Edward

was pissed. "I told you to..."                "Shove

it father. I make my own rules. And here, I brought you your corsage." She handed

him one of those lovely purple blooms.The netherwalker screamed. "You

bitch! What have you done? How long have I stayed away from the Wolf's bane?"

Then his ugly face grew into a frightening smile. "But you too shall die, for

I'm assuming you dipped your claws in its juice.""Correct you stinking hulk. I'd

willingly die to see you dead, and I would just as willingly die to save the

one I love. Maybe if you knew something about love, you might just understand.""Maggie?" Edward nearly reverted to

human in his concern.                 "Shove

it! When this guy is dead, then you can slather me with your affection. First

things first!"                An

angry human can be a hard thing to handle. A werewolf even more so. An angry

werewolf; well that was the icing on the cake. But with Edward, in his new

form, that anger was also the cherry on top. If his Maggie died because of

this; because of him, he would never forgive himself. Nor would he forgive

anyone else.                The air

about his person seemed to thicken. His body, already huge and on par with his opponent's,

grew even more. His claws grew another inch, and his eyes became burning

sockets. He turned to Maggie. "GET OUT!" The girl did as she was told without

another sassy word.                "YOU!"

he bellowed to the netherwalker. "WE END THIS NOW!"                With a

swipe of his huge paw, Edward made Mr. Fish swim through the air for three

blocks. He came down through the window of office building, shards of glass

impaling his shoulders. He collected himself and darted out the broken pane and

onto the street, his heavy thud rattling the trash cans in the alley. Blood was

leaking from his wounds as his body could no longer cope with repairing the

damage. That girl had done a number on him and if he did one thing before he

died, it was going to be to eat her still-beating heart.                He

heard a thud behind him, and he doubled his effort to run. His body was wracked

with pain, yet it drove him on rather than deterred him. He ran blindly; down

busy streets, across rooftops, through back alleys, and occasionally crashing through

brownstones and storefronts. The chase led for miles until they reached Staten

Island, though neither werewolf knew where they were by the time the pursuit

ended.                 Edward

finally caught the other and a fight ensued. By now both were beyond

comprehensible speech, the fear and hatred boiling up inside them replacing

thought and logic with unrestrained primal urgency. They became two rival males

fighting over territory, over mates, and over life itself. They struggled

against each other, but as time progressed, the older one's poisoned system got

the better of him. But where strength might be lacking, experience and cunning

prevailed.                 He made

a feint at Edward, who dodged it with ease. But instead of attacking, Albert steered

towards a nearby church. With a heave, he launched himself up and forward

through a stained glass window. He landed in the pews, splintering one in twain.

He scrambled to find cover in the darkened interior. He hid for a moment behind

a stone statue of the place's patron saint, the one they called Christopher.

Then he loped into a hidey hole and waited.                 Edward

followed by the same path, widening the destruction to the already fractured

window. He landed with a thud, cracking the tiled floor and shaking dust from

the lights above. He sniffed the air, searching for his quarry. He was on the

hunt now, and there was nothing in the world that would stop him.                 Albert

came out of a confessional wielding a long pole topped with brass. He hit

Edward in the head, but it was a glancing blow. In his angered state, Edward

grabbed the pole and yanked it like it was a straw. It flew across the church

and struck a pillar. The wooden staff shattered under the impact.                 Edward

snagged the other werewolf by the throat and flung him across the sanctum to

the front of the church. The raised marble floor caved in from the impact. The

netherwalker got up and grabbed a cross from the altar. He howled in pain as the

silver ate into his flesh. It was the first time in decades that he had not

been able to tolerate the metal. But he hung onto it and sprang at the other,

smoke roiling from his paw.                Edward picked

up a pew and with a force strong enough to deflect a freight train, splintered the

wooden seating on his adversary, driving his opponent into the ceiling. The cross

careened off a wall and came to rest in front of the altar where it had been

taken, fractured off of its base. The netherwalker meanwhile struggled to

get  free,  wedged in the beams above the altar, dangling

like a bug in a spider's web.                Edward

walked underneath him, feeling the drops of blood and the bits of ceiling cascading

down. With a heave he jumped and wrenched the half dead creature from its perch.

It hit the altar, crushing it to fragments.                "You

win," gasped the netherwalker.  "I

finally can find peace."                Edward's

face was a mask of rage. "Peace? You don't deserve peace. I think I'd rather

have you live the rest of your life as a rotting shell. I'd rather see you

suffer for an eternity than for you to have peace. You don't deserve a clean

death."                Albert

coughed weakly. "No, I don't.  But who

made you my judge? "                "You

did. When you made innocents suffer, you condemned yourself. And in doing so,

you also condemned all those who felt the need to stop you. So it ends here and

now!"                Edward

set down the lovely flower on his nemesis' chest, and picking up the cross,

savagely stabbed it through the other's sternum clear through to the floor

below.                As the

smoke began to rise, he half expected to hear screams of agony. But there were

none. The werewolf form, in all its hideousness, melted away to reveal the aged

human form he was familiar with. But it didn't stop there. It kept shrinking

and contorting until all the remained was a small, unassuming shape. It was a

boy, pale and sad looking in the filtered moonlight. His voice was small and

filled with joy.                "Thank you.

I have been trapped since I went to the orphanage at St John's. I have not

lived a decent day since then. I was molded into the worst of beings because of

that place. My transformation into a were-creature came early, and I think because

of something someone there did to me. Those days are blurred in my memory.  All my family was mad, and I traced it back to

the were-condition being unresolved within them. Only I became a true werewolf.

But the cost was too high. I tried to stop it. I succeeded with forestalling the

changes, but not halting the madness. Now I can have peace. Thank you brother

for your persistence. I may die a sinner, but I will die happy."                Soon

the body dissolved into a pillar of smoke and a pile of ash. Edward's rage

dissolved as rapidly as the body had. All he had left in his soul were tears.  They spilled forth upon the floor in a

torrent, running along the floor to the foot of the statue. Perhaps they washed

away the sins of the repentant sinner, but for Edward, they were tears of

relief, and tears of grief. They washed away nothing.