Unknown Alley, Southport, New Jersey.....
The first thing Ron Hemming had taken note of when he opened his hazel eyes was the strange surroundings that indicated that he had no longer been in his apartment building and bedroom. The scent of urine, dirt, and blood filled his nostrils as they flared and he did his best to get his bearings before he managed to sit up. He was quite shocked to find that he'd been naked and covered by the darkness of an empty alleyway. He felt exhausted as if he'd been running both a marathon and indulging in an endless bout of sex as he took note of his naked appearance and the sight of his slick cock, still slightly aroused and slick from the previous efforts of indulgence. He took in a breath and noted the unmistakable coppery scent of blood upon his tongue as his eyes widened. He had not been conscious of a hunt, let alone a wild one. His sense of direction had been off as he managed to stand up straight before shaking off the grogginess that often came as a telltale sign he'd recently transformed but there was no sign of a full moon which gave him the clear indication that the whole ordeal was a forced occurrence.
Ron sighed finding the experience to be an all too familiar and uneasy one as it had been a while since he'd lost control of himself during a transformation. He recalled it happening quite a bit when he'd been a mere lad, newly given to the ramifications of being moonborn and the consequences of his tainted beast blood. Marcellus had supervised him but he could not be everywhere as the younger version of Ron was driven into the madness of his ever-building lusts despite the pure blood that kept it at bay.
The fact that he had chosen to indulge at least one of these attributes at a time seemed to be enough to give him control over the beast that resided within him but only if he'd been wise enough to exercise his demon so to speak. Ron found that he'd been covered in both sweat and blood as he moved about the alley unsure of what had occurred but still feeling the lingering effects of his need as his cock continued to throb with each step.
Being Les Ferale had not made his life any easier, as he was essentially a slave to the pangs of a deep-rooted hunger and the desire to gorge on flesh bloodied and fresh before him along with the unyielding desire to stick his often aching cock into whatever tight warm orifice that would welcome it. He'd bedded his fair share of men and women of various ages but never before the ripe ages as his interest only included those of reasonable standing. But he was notorious for his inability to control his lusts and often found himself scrapping with the other Were bloods over various males and females whom they were mated with as he tore through Italy spreading his tainted seed everywhere.
The Moonlight Counsel had been particularly upset about his tendency to try and impregnate women mortal or beast blood alike and often tasked Marcellus with ensuring that none of the encounters ever resulted in the birth of any blood-tainted children which often caused strife between Ron and his Night Watcher father.
While many of his kinsmen were celebrating the birth of their pups and long unions, Ron was forced to indulge in his nighttime acts and forbidden to take on a mate as he'd been one of tainted blood and thus not allowed to have a line of pups to raise of his own. This endeavor infuriated Ron who had been quite a lonely lad during that time and still very young when it came to the knowledge of the ways of the world and what it meant to carry the blood of the tainted ones in his veins.
While Marcellus had saved his life by making him immortal, he had also doomed the poor sod to spend the remainder of those seemingly infinite days mateless. Ron had sunk into a deep depression that made it possible for the worst attributes of his less-than-savory beast side to emerge and as a result, he left vast trails of devastation in his wake after ransacking whole villages of mortals and bringing himself into the public eye. Marcellus captured him and locked him away in the Halls of Stone, the imprisonment chambers for the wayward immortals as none could be killed.
The ailing lad remained alone and shrouded in utter darkness for three decades before Marcellus cleaned up his mess and allowed him to rejoin the clan. Ron was ashamed of his crimes and isolated himself further wandering on his own and becoming all the more strained from his "family" in the process. The birth of Marius had been particularly difficult for him as he'd been a living child of Marcellus' own complete and untainted blood where Ron was seen as the unwanted disgrace to the house of Altomare which is why he neglected to use the name despite it being known that he'd been moon born of Marcellus' pure blood.
As the years rolled on, Ron became better at managing the vile nature of his beast blood but there were occasions when he'd been overtaken and he shamefully sought a means of amends despite not having much consideration for mortals when it came to his sexual indulgences. He hunted animals the same as any mortal having the well-established new philosophy that he never desired to eat what he so readily fucked and mortals more often than not were spread before him with his enormous cock often buried within them to the hilt.
Sadly, there were occasions when the vile nature of the beast had its way, and this time, Ron found much to his great disappointment, that he had slaughtered the mangled corpse of what appeared to have been a woman who had been torn asunder in the wake of the darker aspect of his beast's twisted lust for blood and conquest.
"FUCK!" he growled disappointed with his loss of control.
He briefly recalled he'd forgotten to quell the menace within and seemed to have been fixated on the return of his enemy to the point that old habits had begun to resurface. The hazel-eyed man shook his head as he quickly cleared himself of the gruesome sight and ventured across the rooftops, adrenaline on high as he put as much distance between himself and his latest unwanted kill as possible.
The images seemed to flood his weary mind as he briefly recalled having his way with the streetwalker before the beast took over completely transforming him into his max feral state and he lost all means of reasoning while he tore the already weakened and terrified woman's body asunder giving in to his unyielding rage and contempt at her fragile means of mortality.
Ron continued to leap and race across the rooftops still putting distance between himself and his new greatest means of shame. Sadly, the taste of her blood remained in his mouth and his arousal had not subsided despite the carnage and bloodshed he'd left behind in the forgotten alley.