The three hundred and sixty fifth day.
Lugar was awoken by the alarming sound of a forklift. Which picked up the wooden box that he had slept, ate and urinated on himself in. The lift carried him down a narrow alley which led to an eighteen wheeler truck. All that was made apparent through the small cracks of that wooden box that was being hauled through the street were crowds of children, adults and other boxes. Lugar could only make out caution signs, also witnessing countless men fighting over the price of a beheaded animal. It was just enough space for him to rotate his body and look out through a slit in the box to a young girl screaming and crying as a man dragged her up a few steps by her arm into a store. As the forklift got closer another man giving direction via a loud megaphone was heard.
" That makes seventy five with this box! Move all the others onto the loading dock!" - He ordered.
The box was risen onto one of many trucks that had a very pervasive smell. It was filled with desiccated children; some in corresponding boxes, others huddled up in pairs or trios. It was during the final moments of the departure when Vilomah ran up to the container.
" I'm going to miss you." - She whispered.
The container arrived at a discreet port filled with trailers. At first, everyone was transferred onto a trailer which boarded a ship. During this process water began to leak and drip onto him through his confined space from the storm that was approaching.
"Up , Up." - One of the men who was carrying his box up the stairs observed.
In addition to the storm there was a full moon in the midst of the yawning day that was being monitored by the men who handled this shipment in particular. Lugar noticed a group of Latins who possessed not a single thing but their clothes coming together in front of a bus. There were tens of girls being transported to vans that could not have been more than a few years older than himself. Lugar's observations led him to pick up on a transient conversation.
" The ammunition?" - One of the men inquired.
"It's all there." - Said the other opening one of the boxes Lugar had recognized on the ship.
"And what's in this box?" - The man asked, pointing towards Lugar.
The discussion fell to a lower tone and he could no longer make out what they were saying but someone was anxiously stomping in his direction. Lugar was then shot with a dosing dart, putting him into a temporary slumber.
When he came around each limb was strapped to a gatch bed, with his ankles being shackled and chained to the floor. A cardiac monitor was measuring his heart and temperature and there was three doctors in the room.
" All of his vitals read normal." - The lead doctor was passing information through a mic that was clipped on his collar while shining a light into his eyes.
"He's definitely awake." - He continued.
"Leave him alone, It is just ten minutes until midnight." - Said the second doctor.
"I believe we have injected him adequately enough to slow the process and be able to experiment with the transformation ourselves." - Disclosed the third doctor.
In that moment a button was pressed that enabled metal rods to pierce through the skin of Lugar's arms and legs. Pointed prongs burst at the ends of them and clamped down onto his bones and skin. Leaving him constrained and screaming in agony.
"Who pressed that!?" - The first doctor was bemused.
Standing in the back was the man who shot Lugar with the dosing dart on the dock. There was a silver bullet around his neck and a drawing that he drew of a werewolf on the doctor's note board.
"For twenty-six years I have earned a living catching and killing werewolves. It is a maga dog, nothing like domesticating a fox or a coyote. On top of that, the clock is misleading, in fact it is only five minutes til this boy comes out of those restraints and rips us apart. We have to kill him now and we have to kill him quick." - He said readily.
"Who gave authorization to this room?" - Said the lead doctor.
"The boy cost money, there is about to be DNA circulating in his brain and blood that will cost millions of dollars." - The second in charge said backing up his lead.
"I value myself and my own neck over the likes of millions of dollars." - Retorted the daunting man.
" Thank you very much, we will take it under advisement..." - The third doctor said and was going to continue to speak but the clock struck twelve and they all paused under the uneasy sound.
A pistol was being drawn by the opposition but the doctors struggled with him in order to regain control. They trusted in their knowledge and considered Lugar to be a prize. He was interrupting their celebration and the three weren't about to allow him to ruin their science. Regardless, they misjudged their theories on the evolution and confining the transformation of a werewolf because a loud and deep yell was heard from the medical bed. Lugar was now sitting up completely, the stakes pulled out from his arms, with his thighs and chest expanding shredding his clothes.
"Ahh, what's happening!?"- He began to feel self- pity for continually going through what felt like hell after leaving his home that one night but his memory was slipping as he was turning.
The hunter was able to free himself and get a round off but Lugar ripped the monitor board down and deflected the bullet. Leaving the bullet along with the chains that popped off his ankles on the floor. At this point he was towering over everyone in the room.
"If only the great Darwin could witness this himself." - Said the first doctor with a sanguine smile and teary eyes.
A vicious back hand sent him through the one way glass. More scientists stood back there momentarily before deciding to choose common sense and disperse. The other two doctors who intended to operate on Lugar tried to run as well but were mauled with only a single swipe to each of them, peeling the skins off of their backs. It was only the hunter remaining; who was looking for his pistol that had dropped in all of the commotion.
" Gosh darn it, where are you now." - He said, normally the wily one in situations like these but tonight the contract that he signed with the commission was coming back full circle, proving itself to be non worthy of any agreed independent contracting. Even though he was gungho about his job, it landed him around an unfortunate few and tonight was the last of his very own fortune.
Lugar scalped the hunter with a certain kind of jaggedness using one of his fingernails and then he ripped off what was remaining of his head before letting out another uncontrolled deep and loud roar; after, lunging through the wall of the building onto the dark and abandoned street .