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Chapter 4: Instincts & Bloodlust

Three days after the incident, I perched on a modified stool in Vander's bar, nursing a glass of juice – alcohol still a forbidden elixir under Vander's watchful eye. The ambient sounds of the Undercity filled the air, with conversations and clinking glasses creating a familiar symphony of the unconventional life below.

Out of the blue, a girl named Vi approached, her laid-back demeanour and easy smile suggesting a certain comfort amidst the chaos. As we exchanged greetings, Vander made his way over, topping up my drink with the familiarity of an established routine.

"So..." Vi began, eyeing me with an amused glint in her eyes. "You're Mr. Wolf my sister talked about, huh? Thought you'd be more... fluffy." She spoke with a playful tone, and I couldn't resist firing back.

"And you must be Vi. I thought you'd be older," I retorted, engaging in the banter that seemed to be a part of the fabric of life in the Undercity.

The banter continued between Vi and me, with playful jabs exchanged about expectations versus reality in the Undercity. Vi's sister, Powder, and her friends Mylo, Ekko and Clagger joined the conversation all curious about my features, creating a lively atmosphere. Powder enthusiastically shared stories of their recent escapades, adding an animated touch to the tales of the Undercity's unconventional adventures.

//////

Returning to my run-down abode, two unfamiliar scents invaded my space, sending my instincts into a frenzied rage. This was my home, my territory! I burst into the building, fangs and claws at the ready, prepared to unleash my wrath upon the intruders.

Within the confines of my den, the scene was infuriating – my possessions plundered, my sanctuary violated. The intruders turned in terror as my glowing eyes bore down on them, a manifestation of my primal fury. "What the fuck is that!?" one of them stammered, fear coursing through their words.

Driven by an instinctual rage, I seized one of the intruders, hurling him with primal force out of my boarded window. He lay in the street, a broken mess – a stark testament to the consequences of trespassing into my territory. Turning to the second intruder, who stood frozen in fear, I approached with relentless determination.

Lunging and clamping my jaws around his leg, I bit down hard, the crunch of bones echoing the severity of my response. Dragging him into the street, his futile kicks and screams filled the air. The taste of blood, the cacophony of his agony, strangely brought a twisted satisfaction amid the chaos.

I was abruptly jarred from my predatory stupor by a powerful punch to the side of my head, compelling me to release the intruder's leg from my relentless jaws.

"ARLO! Back away from the kid!" Vander's thunderous voice resonated with rage, cutting through the chaos like a warning bell. The primal instinct that had consumed me began to recede, replaced by the stern reality of Vander's command. I hesitated for a moment, caught between my feral nature and the authority of the one who had acted as my guardian in this underbelly of society.

Stumbling over my words, I grappled with the realization of my actions. On the ground lay the boy I had thrown out the window—a mere 13 or 14 years old—and the one I had mauled, crying in pain, appeared to be a 16-year-old or perhaps older. The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks, the ferocity of my protective instincts spiralling into a harsh confrontation with the harsh reality of the harm I had caused.

"I-I-" I stammered, but my words were cut short by another blow from Vander.

"What the hell were you thinking!? They are just kids!" he bellowed, his rage reverberating through the street.

I whined, fleeing from his rage, and kept running, where his shouts gradually faded as I got farther away. The echoes of disappointment and anger still lingered in my mind, mixing with the sounds of the Undercity.

//////

[status screen]

Name: N/A

Race: Chemically Altered Cyborg

Appearance:

* Body: Covered in grey fur with metallic bronze-coloured claws and paws.

* Features: Claws, fangs, snout, and large canine ears.

Abilities:

* [Acid Resistance] Level 4

* [Pain Resistance] Level 4

* [Regeneration] Level 6

* [heightened senses] level 3

Skills:

* Instinctual Awareness: Instincts guide him through challenges, and he instinctively reacts to threats and opportunities.

* Tear: can use his sharp claws to tear and penetrate objects.

Staring at my status window blankly, I mulled over all that I'd done. Vander now probably despises me, and those kids will never be the same.

I ran into this random alley to hide.

This "System" I was given is all but useless; this body is a curse, and now I have nothing. Returning to my home means facing Vander, a confrontation I'm not ready for. The echoes of my actions reverberate in the confines of my mind, leaving me with a heavy burden that my wolfish form cannot escape.

And it would seem I'm out of luck as well as Vander's stormy look met my blank gaze as he appeared out of nowhere.

"Arlo... what you did was wrong. I could understand if you just roughed them up a bit, but you crippled one and broke the bones of the other," he berated me. I listened, zoning out a bit, until he said something that pissed me off.

"- it was practically inhumane." I stood up and growled at him.

"Inhumane? Do I look human to you!? Do you know what it's like to be me? A monster made for death!" My voice echoed with the frustration and resentment that had built up inside me.

I practically roared, swiping one of my claws against the ground and destroying it.

"Look at me! Do you know how I feel!? You don't get the urges I do. You don't feel the desire for flesh or the need to hunt, to feel your prey squirm between your teeth! I didn't ask for this, Vander, and I sure as hell didn't ask for your judgment!" My words carried the weight of frustration and desperation, a plea for understanding in a world that had dealt me a monstrous hand and cursing ROB for making me this way.

Vander's gaze remained stern, yet a flicker of sympathy danced in his eyes.

"Arlo, I know it's not easy, but that doesn't excuse what you did. We're all struggling in the Undercity, each with our own demons, but we can't let them consume us. You've got to find a way to cope without causing harm to others."

My growl reverberated in the dimly lit space, a mix of defiance and frustration.

"You think it's easy? You think I want to be like this?" I gestured towards my wolfish features. "I didn't choose this existence. The bloodlust, the instincts, the fucking overload of senses, they torment me every day. You don't understand what it's like to fight against your own nature."

Vander sighed, his expression softening slightly.

"I can't pretend to understand completely, Arlo, but that doesn't give you a free pass to harm innocent people. We're a community down here, and we have to look out for each other."

I sank back onto the floor, a mix of anger, sadness, and helplessness swirling within me.

"What am I meant to do then?" I let out a whine feeling weak and drained after my outburst.

Vander's gaze softened as he placed a hand on my furry shoulder, offering a moment of solace in the midst of my turmoil.

"We'll figure this out together, Arlo. You're not alone. Maybe we can find a way to channel those instincts and redirect them into something less harmful. You're part of this community, and we'll support you, but you also need to find a way to cope without hurting others."

I sighed, the weight of my actions heavy on my conscience. The realization that my predatory nature had caused harm to innocents even if they were stealing from me, left me grappling with a sense of guilt.

"Can you help me, Vander?" The plea in my voice was evident even with my raspy tone, a desperate desire for guidance and understanding.

Vander nodded a determined glint in his eyes. "We'll find a way, Arlo. It won't be easy, but you're not alone in this struggle. Let's work together to navigate the challenges that come with your... unique situation. But for now, you're moving in with me and you'll be under my supervision."

The weight of Vander's words settled in, a mixture of relief and uncertainty coursing through me. Moving in with Vander seemed like both a solution and a new challenge.

"Thank you, Vander," I responded, appreciating the support and structure he offered. Despite the complexities of my existence, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, with Vander's guidance, I could find a way to coexist with the community without causing harm.

As we left my hiding spot, Vander leading the way, I cast one last look at the alley, the scene of my recent outburst. The realization that my actions had consequences, that I needed to find a way to live within the boundaries of this underground community, lingered heavily in my mind.

Vander's firm declaration echoed in my ears. Grounded in an underworld where rules were malleable and consequences could be harsh—it seemed fitting for a creature like me.

"I understand," I replied, accepting the terms. The notion of being grounded, even in the chaotic underbelly of The Lanes, carried a sense of normalcy that I hadn't experienced in a long time.

As Vander led the way through the winding passages of the underground city, I couldn't help but wonder what this new chapter of living with him would bring. Grounded, yet in the company of someone who seemed determined to help me navigate the complexities of my existence.


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