(Not Finished)
Name: War (Real Name - Malcolm)
Age: 33 yrs
Species: Werewolf
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Retired Marine
Appearance: Standing approximately 6'1 of a mid musculature frame. Light brown hair that is either slicked back, or flopped in a messy manner over his head. A bit of scruff accentuating his strong firm jaw. Wars eyes are a brilliant emerald mirroring his intelligence and the traumas of his past.
Personality: Generally a laidback person, rarely loses his temper despite the beast that lurks within. War is a bit of a heartbreaker enjoying a wide selection of females to reduce his sexual appetite. A charmer, sweet and well mannered. On the night of the full moon however, that all changes. His temper is short, making him aggressive and mean. Then the guilt and regret will crush him in the morning.
Backstory: Malcolm participated in a normal childhood, although his parents were divorced carted back and forth between them during the school holidays. Due to natural good looks and a slightly arrogant attitude, he'd found himself to be a popular kid in school, dating one girl one week, and another the next. Sometimes two at the same time which always ended in disaster and high school drama. At the age of 15yrs Malcolm grew fed up of school and dropped out. When eligible he applied for the Marines, unable to shy away from the grueling activities and experiences making friends and learning to be honorable and respectful.
Upon his first deployment, Malcolm leaped into the fiery belly of war, protecting his platoons backs. When he made his first kill he didn't have a chance to stop and think about it, not until later when the horrors of that day caught up with him.
After several years in the Marines Malcolm was finally discharged after receiving a damning bullet to the kneecap. It took a year to heal, and even after that he was plagued with painful twitches, adopting a permanent limp. War had changed the ex marine, but it didn't stop him from sampling the joys of life often going on many dates and of course enjoying multiple types of women, his appetite hard to vanquish, not eager to settle down not yet.
It was on one dark, dreary stereotypical night that Malcolm decided to go for a walk around a deserted park, pausing to park his rump on a bench to rest his aching knee. A rustle in the bushes caught his attention turning a sharp gaze in that particular direction at first dismissing it for some sort of nocturnal creature when a giant black beast darted from the thick foliage knocking Malcolm from the bench with fierce snarls as one large paw leaned onto the mans chest pinning him to the spot.
Spittle and saliva dripped from parted jaws long sharp canines glinting in the dim lighting of the waning moon. It's fierce, aggressive snarls echoed around the park. Malcolms heart had leaped into his throat pounding with panic and fear drawing a fist back to smash it forcefully into the Monsters snout. A feeble attempt at a struggle. Still he persisted, desperate to get away and to safety, kicking punching but all it did was enrage the creature further. Searing pain erupted in a shoulder as powerful jaws enclosed and sank into soft flesh tearing through material, skin and muscle. His screams excited it, tossing its head roughly side to side flinging him around like a ragdoll.
He could have lost an arm, most likely his life if it wasn't for the couple that walked round the corner. A womans piercing shriek startled the beast, causing it to run back to wherever it came from leaving the ex marine bleeding out and unconscious on the floor. Help had arrived quickly, rushing him off to the hospital and patching him up quickly.
Discharged and back home Malcolm came across unusual changes after the attack. His knee no longer hurt, and the torn ugly wounds on a shoulder were almost pink scars healing magnificently quick. Sight and sound increased often resulting in headaches, and his sense of smell skyrocketed.
It was the night of the full moon when the inevitable, biggest change took control.
Name: War (Real Name - Malcolm)
Age: 33 yrs
Species: Werewolf
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Retired Marine
Personality: Generally a laidback person, rarely loses his temper despite the beast that lurks within. War is a bit of a heartbreaker enjoying a wide selection of females to reduce his sexual appetite. A charmer, sweet and well mannered. On the night of the full moon however, that all changes. His temper is short, making him aggressive and mean. Then the guilt and regret will crush him in the morning.
Backstory: Malcolm participated in a normal childhood, although his parents were divorced carted back and forth between them during the school holidays. Due to natural good looks and a slightly arrogant attitude, he'd found himself to be a popular kid in school, dating one girl one week, and another the next. Sometimes two at the same time which always ended in disaster and high school drama. At the age of 15yrs Malcolm grew fed up of school and dropped out. When eligible he applied for the Marines, unable to shy away from the grueling activities and experiences making friends and learning to be honorable and respectful.
Upon his first deployment, Malcolm leaped into the fiery belly of war, protecting his platoons backs. When he made his first kill he didn't have a chance to stop and think about it, not until later when the horrors of that day caught up with him.
After several years in the Marines Malcolm was finally discharged after receiving a damning bullet to the kneecap. It took a year to heal, and even after that he was plagued with painful twitches, adopting a permanent limp. War had changed the ex marine, but it didn't stop him from sampling the joys of life often going on many dates and of course enjoying multiple types of women, his appetite hard to vanquish, not eager to settle down not yet.
It was on one dark, dreary stereotypical night that Malcolm decided to go for a walk around a deserted park, pausing to park his rump on a bench to rest his aching knee. A rustle in the bushes caught his attention turning a sharp gaze in that particular direction at first dismissing it for some sort of nocturnal creature when a giant black beast darted from the thick foliage knocking Malcolm from the bench with fierce snarls as one large paw leaned onto the mans chest pinning him to the spot.
Spittle and saliva dripped from parted jaws long sharp canines glinting in the dim lighting of the waning moon. It's fierce, aggressive snarls echoed around the park. Malcolms heart had leaped into his throat pounding with panic and fear drawing a fist back to smash it forcefully into the Monsters snout. A feeble attempt at a struggle. Still he persisted, desperate to get away and to safety, kicking punching but all it did was enrage the creature further. Searing pain erupted in a shoulder as powerful jaws enclosed and sank into soft flesh tearing through material, skin and muscle. His screams excited it, tossing its head roughly side to side flinging him around like a ragdoll.
He could have lost an arm, most likely his life if it wasn't for the couple that walked round the corner. A womans piercing shriek startled the beast, causing it to run back to wherever it came from leaving the ex marine bleeding out and unconscious on the floor. Help had arrived quickly, rushing him off to the hospital and patching him up quickly.
Discharged and back home Malcolm came across unusual changes after the attack. His knee no longer hurt, and the torn ugly wounds on a shoulder were almost pink scars healing magnificently quick. Sight and sound increased often resulting in headaches, and his sense of smell skyrocketed.
It was the night of the full moon when the inevitable, biggest change took control.
Comments
Post a Comment