My name is Nathan Thomas Fischer and I'm dead. I was born on January 17, 1543, but somehow I still appear not older than thirty.
The story of my brief life begins in November of 1576, when I was just a young rebel. The son of French aristocrats. Energetic and thirsty for adventure, any adventure that life could offer me at that time. At an early age, I knew I would be an explorer; I wanted to see the world, travel and visit exotic places that until then existed only in my mind. I know now how naïve and childish this ideas were. At seventeen I began my journey. I was very convincing and did not find much resistance from my parents. I traveled for eleven years; I visited the most distant countries and met many people and cultures. I was dazzled.
I came to Romania in the winter of 1571. The place had a dark atmosphere, almost frightening, but fascinating at the same time. I was in the Gotland Forest searching for new bird species when a strange howl reverberated in the night. I turned but could not see anything. I heard nothing more. Suddenly, from within the depths of the dark forest I saw a huge creature. A huge animal with large, toned muscles, covered with long reddish’brown hair. It seemed furious, but somehow still managed to be so graceful. He moved toward me. Without thinking twice I instinctively started running. But no matter how fast I ran, I could still hear his breath right behind me. Suddenly I fell and I felt a strong impact on my left leg, followed by severe pain and blood flowing from the wound. The animal had bitten me, inflicting a fatal wound to a vital artery. I lost so much blood. Dizziness overtook me. The pain was unbearable, so much so I could only the darkness. I was dying!
But for some reason, the animal released me and started walking in circles around me. It seemed uneasy, afraid, like it could not decide whether to succumb to the instinct to kill me or save his own life. As if this time, he was the prey. Then, without any notice, he disappeared. I could not move, both from fear and the pain that spread throughout my body. I knew that death was near. A few seconds later, a strange odor I had never encountered before invaded my senses, making my throat burn with the scent.
Then I heard voices: “What about this?” “Clean up after you finish” and despite my fear, it seemed like a chance at relief, a release from my pain. But then another voice - strangely soft, almost kindly: “No! Wait!” Something hard and cold as ice touched my neck, sending chills throughout my whole body. It seemed to seek some sign of life in me, and again came the soft voice, “There is no need, and he is already dead. I’ll deliver the evidence.” I felt like crying out, "No, please, stop it now!" But I could not move a muscle. Finally the same sweet voice, “Relax and you'll be fine child.”
I fainted and had a long sleep filled with pain and hallucinations. When I woke up, I did not know how much time had passed and if everything really happened. I realized that I was hot, very hot. The heat seemed to radiate from my body and melted the snow. I was too hot to be dead. With all the snow and wind, I should be freezing, but I felt nothing. And so I realized I was different. Something in me had changed. And so my life came to an end and my life after death began.
Many years passed before I learned to control my strength again. But despite all my efforts, I often succumbed to the instincts of this strange form. I succumbed to the most disgusting diet within the animal kingdom. I needed human flesh, human flesh and blood! And no matter how much I ate, nothing was enough for me. Nothing satisfied me and it always made me sick. One day, after I fed myself with an entire family, I looked at what was left of the youngest child and I felt desperation taking me. I wanted to stop killing people, I needed them to survive. Suicide had no effect on me, I had tried every possible way and every time I got up and walked. It was as if my body was frozen in this form and there was nothing in this world that could change it.
Plagued by horrific crimes that I had committed and believing that somehow God was still watching over me, I decided to look for redemption. At first, I hunted bad guys, rapists, murderers and all sorts of scoundrels who I found worldwide. But even that did not seem to bring peace to my conscience. Then I started to get food from animals. I can not say it was the same thing, but I gorged myself, trying not to kill any more humans than necessary. During my nearly 350 years I found others like me. Most of them wild, angry and lonely, living a life aloof. I was back in France when I met a huge family of werewolves, the Loup Garou. Unlike the others they were organized, almost civilized. Humans were still their prey, but for the Loup Garou they were just food. They avoided exposure; they were always discreet. They knew from experience that human beings should not be underestimated and that maintaining a residence near a large flock was easier than having to hunt. But the main purpose of the disguise was to protect the secret, being incognito was the universal law. I did not understand very well, but that was enough for me. They accepted me, despite my different lifestyle and my unusual diet, acquired over time and through much self-control.
The leader of the Loup Garou was called Jean Vincent Baptist; a visionary young werewolf. Jean Vincent appeared to be twenty-odd years, but his attitude made it clear that he was the oldest of the family. He was always very calm and cool, even during hunting. Jean Vincent had created the majority of the members of the Loup Garou. He could see through people, it was as if he could see through their souls and could therefore determine who had the potential to be his son and who would just be dinner. He never had a partner as he had never seen the advantage to it, but Jean Vincent was never alone. Not that they wanted to or could play - our bodies were frozen in time, perfectly healthy, but immutable. According to Jean Vincent, his family was one of the few that still existed. Certainly a group as large as the Loup Garou was really rare.
In order to keep the peace, Jean Vincent was almost a dictator. He imposed many rules and severe punishments for those who dared challenge him. But that's how he managed to keep alive such a large family for centuries. He was respected and had the loyalty of all. There were many families and multiple subgroups in Loup Garou, arranged in positions and functions. There were hunters, suppliers, the guards, and also some who were undercover - those who mingled with humans to attract them and also for security reasons. They kept living quarters in a small village near Lyon, called Leaf, but made frequent visits to the big city. Lyon was a flourishing French town that attracted many tourists, as the city was known for its ancient legends of werewolves or Children of the Moon, as we were known.
I lived with the Loup for forty-two years and learned a lot from them. There was a doctor among the wolves, Theodore Leaf; he was an infiltrator. Theodore and I became great friends. Living with humans had instigated Theodore’s curiosity. He was an enlightened man, always looking to learn and improve himself. He was kind and had compassion for all life forms, believing that medicine would give him the chance to learn human anatomy. It was he who taught me about our species, all the legends of our origins, a possible ancestor as our poison invades and destroys the fragile foundations of the human body, turning them into us. Theodore is secretly looking for an antidote (a sort of anti-venom), which could reverse the transformation process.
Theodore also told me about our natural enemies, the vampires. The multiple battles and eternal war between our species; and the last great battle, in which we were almost extinguished. After this battle, werewolves were hunted around the world and the few of us who survived remained hidden and anonymous, as the Loup Garou. Vampires, according to Theodore, were more experienced and could socialize with humans in so many ways that we could only imagine. They often gathered in groups and apparently were here long before us, so they had time to perfect themselves. After some time, my thirst for adventure came back again. I was able to concentrate better and had learned to control the transformation; I decided I was ready to continue my journey. It was time to meet the New World. And that's when I came to America.
At first I lived in Toronto. I taught biology in high school, camouflaged among humans. During this period, some Loup Garou followed my way, obviously to the chagrin of Jean Vincent - who promised constant visits to ensure that, even while far away we would all still abide by his laws. Some werewolves chose Canada like me. Some chose the United States; others went to Argentina, Chile and Brazil. I felt strangely good knowing they were nearby.