Trouble Brewing

Ya know... life is like alcohol... it rocks but is trouble from the point at which it starts brewing. Take my life for example. I was trouble from birth. I was born on an abandoned military base in New Mexico, which my family's pack took over. It was a small nursery in a big house on a hill where the leaders lived.
My parents were wolves and I was a wolf at birth. Rio and Reiko Grut were happy to have a new pup on the way. Reiko, a dark green wolf, was in the nursing bed with Rio, a mighty white werewolf, by her side. The walls were painted to honour the Silver Paw, my family's pack, and the moon. At the door stood tall two black werewolves. One was marked by a beta mark on one shoulder of his jacket and his nametag which read "J.Grut", the other wore a Delta triangle on the same shoulder of his jacket and his nametag said "D.Menges". All the men were armed with standard M-16 Assault rifles. The mother wolf was panting and whining, the puppy was on the way. The Proud father crouched by the mother and held her paw.
The moon was full and with a loud howl, the pup was born, a small black fluff of fur. That was me. The proud father took the newborn from the mother without a second thought about his health.
"James! Come see my son!" he shouted to the Beta marked wolf, who immediatly followed the order.
"Good Job Rio... what's his name?" James asked.
Reiko growled at Rio. She wanted to say something. Rio looked at James with a slightly less excited face
"Reiko is to give him a name... But I have decided his family will always be important to him and I want it to be known... so his middle will be James, Brother"
James simply gave a respectful nod. Reiko walked over to the gathering and took the puppy from Rio in her maw.
"His name is Jason" she said from inbetween her teeth, before heading to the attached bathroom, slowly taking her bipedal form.
She had long black hair with the green tint that appeared in her fur and a beautiful form. The puppy never left her maw as she walked. Rio gave a sort of growl as she walked away then turned back to James.
"Brother, today is a great day for the Silver Paw. Our future Alpha was born and we will continue" He cheered.
"Congratulations again Rio" Replied James.
"Brother you should consider our pack's future Beta" Rio said as he walked to a near-by window.
"Oh?"
"Yes... have you even looked for a mate?"
Reiko came out from the bathroom, now in her Jacket which had an Alpha mark on the shoulder, much like Rio's. James' eyes followed her and then he looked back to his brother.
"I have..." he answered.
"Good! Go and get her... you need to have a puppy" Rio cheered.
"I... I can't"
"He's Scared, Rio" The other wolf suddenally shouted.
"Shut it Demetri!" James growled, nearly jumping at the other wolf's throat.
James had a puppy... he knew it... no one else did but he knew it. Trouble brewed with my birth, my conception, my very form.
Life is like alcohol... more later.

The Silver Paw company

Beer isn't always free so I need to make some cash.... let's see what am I good at:

1. killing
2. lifting
3. shooting
4. moving
5. bartending
6. killing again
7. home delivery
8. ... I'll leave this one blank but i'm good at that too

ok I already am a contract killer. so why don't i expand my spectrum. i'll kill and delivery bodies for a price.... and if anything else needs to be moved or delivered...

I'll give friends and family discounts and my enamies have to pay more but if they can pay I'll do the job.

I'll bartend sometimes hate doing that job cause the uncivilized people in this city guess people will pay me though so...

I guess my job description is delivery contract killer and bartender.

Ok now for the story to go with this:

Drunk Again

So I wandered with Sam's loss on my mind... nothing I could do though, he wants to kill me. So now I'm just burning out the day. My truck is still parked at the Forgotten Bar... I should get it.

The bar slowly appeared over the horizon with my truck still parked in front. The new addition of a burnt front wall was interesting. Anya s out front sweeping the charred wood. Wonder where Billy is. no time to wonder she probably saw me that night. I dashed for my truck, the front window is broken I hope it turns on. It choked... no start, dammit. Anya saw me!

"Hey you!.... ROCK!," she shouted.

I sighed and got out of my truck "It's rightfully mine I can take it."

"That's not what I'm calling you for... I saw you kill Frank," she said.

There was internal panic... she did see me. I would be on the run again.

"Frank's brother is pissed... remember the guy with the head tattoo?" she asked.

Wait... she wasn't going to scream about me being a wolf?

"Well he's threatening to kill everyone that comes into the bar... if you get rid of him too I'll pay," she offered.

"You saw me kill Frank?" I asked "and you saw what I am?"

"I've seen a lot of strange things your nothing new... but don't show Billy he'll kill you for sport," she said.

"ok then... I'll do it... just lead me in the right direction," I nodded.

So I didn't have a dollar to my name but I did have bullets in my gun and that's how I became a contract killer.

the journal

I've decided I want to add a bit from my present into this journal. I'll still add about my past and all I remember.
I want to talk about stuff that's happening now too.
Let's start off with what today looks like. It's cold, it's wet, it's raining, and it's flooded. It's the kind of day that makes you feel down... but that's not why I'm down today. Today I lost an amazing friend. She's always been here for me and I let her know I'll always be here for her.
Let's talk about why I'm losing her now. Sure her body is dead but her spirit wants to leave this city too. We talked, maybe true love is a bit more real than I know, hell it killed her. But let me go back. I'm losing her cause a broken heart and I swear I'll kick his ass for breaking her heart. She's too good for him, the cheating lying fucker.
I made her laugh and she's always happy to see me. I don't want to see her go. Maybe I never want to see anything go... but it likes to happen a lot. Maybe I try harder than i should to keep things around. Guess it's just like a pack rat to do it, gather things and refuse to let them go.
My point in all this is to explain that I'm going to have a hard time seeing her go and am doing everything in my power to make her stay.
Now the point of the True love... I don't believe in true love, I've had a lot of love, hell even what I thought was true. She says that which can survive the hardships and the tears and the fighting is true love.... maybe I have true love for the Shadows. I have True love for a lot of things... Let me Explain why True love is fake in my mind.

They're Only Beautiful When You're Drunk

I met her coming off the dock. I followed her to the bar. I drank. She was a beautiful creature in front of me... I convinced her to dance. Strip in fact. She did it wonderfully. I fell in drunk love. A few hours later I loved her, and she said she loved me. I was faithful... only time in my life. We were mates not long after. We wanted to be together forever.
What happened?
Strippers are only beautiful when you're drunk. And they love to lie about love.
She lied about true love... and broke me down pretty bad. She left for a few days to go to the mainland... something about a dying friend or whatnot. And I waited for her. I was faithful and I missed her and when she was schedualed to return... I saw her in the arms of another man dug into a kiss... I'm pretty sure once they disappeared into the boat they fucked. So what happened?
I got mad, True love failed me and it lied. I got on the docks and as the boat was about to moor... I threw my last chunk of C-4 onboard. There was an explosion and I just walked away. True love wasn't real... it just said it was real to rip me of my clothes and my name.

True love seems so fake to me... but now I'm losing a friend because of it. Maybe i need to lighten up... everyone needs hugs. Shadows need love too ya'know.



*sigh*

The Forgotten (cont. from Drunk Depression)

I Drove into the late afternoon the next day, running from all my past, and landed myself back in Sante Fe. I pulled up to an old bar called 'The Forgotten'. I didn't have a dollar to my name, but i had bullets for my gun. The streets were empty and the sky seemed cloudless. It was hot and I wanted to drink to forget. So I walked into The Forgotten.
"Welcome to The Forgotten Bar" The Barman called out imediatly "anything i can get ya?"
He seemed like a friendly old man of the age of roughly fourty. His hair was a grey mess and his clothes nothing but dirty rags of what they once were. His shirt once said "Welcome to Roswell" but all was faded but "Come to 'ell". Someone drew an h over the once w of roswell and drew horns on the little green alien that was below the message.
The bar was dirty and the lights too dim to shine through the cloud of smoke that settled on the roof. Grungy road hogs, murderers, thieves, and dead beat bums filled the seats, stools and booths. the floor crunched when stepped on because of all the broken glass, dead cockroaches and dried blood. To the left of the door was the bare wooden bar and opposite were a few red booths and the rusty metal tables they surrounded. On the far end were two doors with a large sign above them reading "PRIVATE". One had an interesting girl's restroom triangle but the stick figure had anatomy drawn on and big red lips. The other was a large metal door with no handle and a slot to look out of.
I silently walked to an empty booth. the leather was torn and the foam stuck through. someone wrote on the table in big black felt tip letter "only way is up from here", names were carved beside it and a few were scratched out. The barman walked to my booth and seemed annoied.

Drunk Depression

Everyone was dead. Their blood on me. Everyone had been killed. Everything I knew was gone, the buildings burned, and the bodies buried. I checked the Manifest. Every mother and child, soldier and worker. I buried them all. Tank was gone, I saw him get shot in front of my eyes. Demetri was dead, I killed him with my bare hands. Every friend, enamy, ally, and neutral. Everything was gone. All my life, Everything to live for, and to die for. I didn't know what was next. I was on my last cigarello. When all the bodies were buried, I looked over the gaveyard. Every body was accounted for and every grave was full. All but one, the one that i stood at the foot of.
It was my 19th birthday when the full moon reached it's peak. I put the last cigarello in my maw and lit it with a red paw marked lighter. I was alone in the New Mexico desert. I felt the wind blow through my long black fur. My eyes were indifferent in the light of the old lighter.
"Happy Birthday, Jase," I whispered as I took the cigarello from my mouth and threw it with the lighter into the empty grave.
I pushed the shovel in the dirt beside the grave and hung my coat. The green alpha marked coat with the nametag "J. Grut". The coat I wore to the battle, and my father had worn before me.
Silently I turned from the sight and walked to the Technical truck. It was in a state of disrepair. The radio was destroied, the machinegun mount bent off, and the paint gone. All that remained inside were my guns: the blood-stained .45 caliber pistol which finished Demetri, my standard issue M-16 that aided me in the assult, and my 12 gauge shotgun with less than a mile on it. The engine on the technical worked when I turned the key and drove away from the past.